Abduction
by cdixon
Summary: When Castle goes missing, Kate must confront her feelings as she and the team struggle to find him in time.  Takes place after season 3, but not a finale fic.
1. MIA

_New story I'm writing when I really should be studying for exams. But it just hit me, and I like where it's going, if I do say so myself. This could take place anywhere after season 3. Josh is still in the picture (sorry) and Montgomery is dead. This is in no way related to my other stories. Also unlike my others this is written entirely from Kate's point of view to increase suspense. Tee heehee._

_I may up the rating in later chapters, it just depends on how...adventurous I feel. We shall see. _

Oh yeah: and I don't own Castle. But I do have lots and lots of ideas for them. :)

**As always, I appreciate your reviews and criticisms. And now, Abduction...**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: MIA<strong>

"Yo Beckett!" Esposito called from the other side of the yellow crime scene tape. Detective Kate Beckett, NYPD, waved and started toward her teammate. A uniform, who was not-so-subtly checking Kate out, held up the tape so that she could walk under. Beckett gave him a forced smile and a nod of thanks, rolling her eyes as soon as she passed.

It was a sweltering Saturday afternoon in late August, the sun beating down on the asphalt and a shimmering haze of ozone blanketing the city. Even the slight breeze rustling between the buildings offered little or no relief. The officers and CSU techs at the crime scene were sweating profusely, their movements sluggish despite the immense desire to wrap things up in a hurry. It was just too damn hot to hustle.

However, it seemed it wasn't too hot to murder someone. At least not if the body Medical Examiner Lanie Parrish was crouching over was any indication. Lanie looked unusually grumpy. This was probably due to the effect the heat and humidity were having on her hair, but also potentially due to whatever Esposito-related activities the call had interrupted. The only item in the alley that seemed unaffected by the heat was the dead body itself, the four gunshot wounds in his chest having effectively rendered the man impervious to the hostile weather conditions.

"Castle MIA today?" Esposito asked as they approached the DB.

Beckett shook her head, trying not to let her disappointment show. She didn't want anyone -least of all Castle himself- to know how much she had come to rely on the writer and crave his company. "He's at a book signing" she told Esposito.

"Ahh, the latest chapter of the Nikki Heat saga" Esposito's partner mocked as he approached. Ryan grinned teasingly in spite of the sweat that was trickling down his brow.

Beckett rolled her eyes and turned to face her her friend the ME. "What've we got, Lanie?"

Lanie opened her mouth to speak, but looked around in confusion instead. "What, no Castle?" she asked a moment later.

"You do know he doesn't actually work here, right?" Beckett asked. "He's not chained to my side."

"Except that he is" Lanie muttered.

Beckett sighed, narrowing her eyes at Lanie. "He's at a book signing. I ask again: what've we got?"

Lanie rapidly switched gears, becoming the model professional. "Caucasian male, mid thirties, four GSWs to the chest at close range. No wallet, no ID. Judging by the tan line on his left wrist I'd say his watch is missing."

"Robbery gone wrong?" Ryan offered.

"A mugger who shot him four times? That seems like a lot of anger to have toward some random person" said Beckett.

"I do have signs of struggle" said Lanie, "abrasions on both hands. I might be able to get you a DNA sample."

"Thanks Lanie" said Beckett.

The team spent the next few hours pounding the smoldering pavement, knocking on doors, trying to find someone who saw or heard something. But the buzzing of air conditions and the noise of traffic had somehow muffled the four gunshots, apparently. No one heard a thing.

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><p>It was a frustrating case. By nine o'clock the only information they had come up with was an ID for the victim: Gary Hobson, thirty six, journalist, lived in Chelsea. He was in the system from a single drug charge fifteen years earlier. Both of Gary's parents were deceased. His brother didn't know of anything that was troubling him, but had provided them with the name and address of Gary's girlfriend. They had hoped it would be a break in the case, but the girlfriend didn't know anything either. They hadn't been able to contact anyone from the <em>New York Times<em>, where Gary worked. Beckett and the boys finally called it a day around nine fifteen, when the lines on the murder board started to blur and the words run together.

Something had been nagging at the back of Beckett's mind all afternoon, but until she left the precinct she didn't have time to really consider it. Castle. It was something to do with Castle, she realized as she walked to her car. He hadn't called or texted all day, which was highly unusual. Ordinarily he would've been all over her for the details of the case, texting Kate and the boys wild theories between signing copies of his book or artificial breasts, whichever the fan preferred. Then after he left the signing he would've called, dropped by, maybe even brought dinner. Not that Kate had missed him.

He was probably just busy, Kate rationalized. Knowing Castle, he had run down the battery on his phone playing Angry Birds, met some hot young blonde at the signing and was out on the town with her, or back at her place, not even aware that his battery was dead. Kate felt her stomach clench at the thought of Castle with some woman, who in her mind's eye looked much like a younger version of Gina. _Dammit._

But Castle, despite his continued playboy reputation, didn't…_play_ so much these days. And Kate was beginning to understand that the author's bad-boy persona wasn't the real Rick Castle at all. It was the Richard Castle he portrayed for the media, the one that sold the books. It wasn't the Rick Castle she and the rest of the 12th knew, the adoring father, beleaguered son, devoted friend.

Be that as it may, Castle had changed over the past few years. He had matured significantly, and his stream of female companions had dwindled to nothing as far as Kate could tell. Though he used to relish every opportunity to bask in the glow of his success, Castle had complained endlessly about today's event. He had no desire, he had told her, to spend an afternoon sitting on his ass in a packed bookstore with nothing more interesting than a hand cramp to help him pass the time. Ever so gradually, Richard Castle: playboy author extraordinaire, was morphing into Rick Castle the cop. Badge or no badge, he was Kate's partner.

Yes, that was why Castle's lack of contact bothered Kate: it was out of character. It had nothing to do with the fact that she missed his witty commentary, his outlandish theories, the cup of perfectly prepared coffee he always provided, the way the corners of his deep blue eyes crinkled when he smiled, how he stood a little too close yet not nearly close enough…No, that wasn't it at all. Kate had seen Castle yesterday. She couldn't possibly miss him.

_Right,_ said an all-to-honest part of Kate's brain, _that's why you're calling him, right? Because you don't miss him? _

Castle's phone went straight to voicemail, the familiar deep, slightly rough voice making Kate's skin tingle. _Oh, God, I'm so pathetic._

"Hey, you've reached Rick Castle. You know what to do."

"Hey Castle" said Kate, not bothering to identify herself. He would know her voice anywhere, just like she would know his. And his posture, and his scent… _Shit. _"Just wanted to let you know that we're nowhere near wrapping up the case if you wanna come in tomorrow. It might be too close to home for you, dead writer" she joked. "Anyway, if you're not out too late with your groupies and want in on this one I'll see ya tomorrow. Don't forget my coffee."

Kate hung up, wishing this odd prickling on the back of her neck would go away. It didn't, even after a long bath, a glass of wine, and finishing the newest Nikki Heat book for the third time. Still nothing from Castle. When Kate finally fell asleep at around two thirty that morning she was hoping, for the first time, that Castle was in bed with some stupid, slutty starlet.

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><p>By nine thirty the next morning Beckett still hadn't heard from Castle. She was sitting at one of the conference tables with Ryan and Esposito, staring at her woefully empty coffee cup and thinking about the writer far more than she was thinking about poor Gary Hobson. She already thought about him far more than she should, far more than was healthy, but this time those thoughts were laced with worry.<p>

"Hey guys?" she asked the other two Detectives. "Have you heard from Castle?"

"Why? Do you miss him?" Ryan teased.

"No" Kate answered, narrowing her eyes, while that honest part of her mind said _yes. I miss him a lot. _"I called last night to update him on the case and I still haven't heard anything from him. I was just curious."

Ryan and Esposito exchanged glances. "He _was_ at a book signing yesterday" said Esposito gently. "He might have…you know…gone home with, uh….he might've had a late night."

"I know" said Kate, screwing on her expressionless mask. "It's just unusual not to hear from him, that's all. I don't know, I had a weird feeling all day yesterday like something was up." She tried to shrug it off, but judging by the looks of concern on the boys' faces she was unsuccessful.

Kate focused her attention more fully on Hobson's financial records, glancing only occasionally at her idle phone. When it finally did ring at a little after ten, "Castle Home" displayed on the ID, she answered before the first ring was even complete.

"Beckett"

"Detective Beckett?" said a familiar but timid voice. "It's Alexis Castle."

Every hair on the back of Beckett's neck stood up, her nerves prickling unpleasantly. If Alexis was calling…. "Hi Alexis. Is everything okay?" Kate asked, keeping her voice even for the teenager's sake.

"Is my dad with you?" Alexis asked, the worry in her tone unmistakable.

"I haven't heard from him actually, why?"

"He never came home last night, and he _never_ does that anymore unless he's working a case" said Alexis. "And even then he always calls or texts or something. I haven't heard from him since he left for the book signing yesterday afternoon."

"Was everything okay when he left?"

"Sure, yeah. I mean he wasn't all that excited about going, but he was fine. He said he'd see me at dinner."

Kate chewed on her lip, taking a deep breath in an effort to remain calm. Images of a body lying broken and bloody in an alleyway flashed through her mind, but it wasn't Gary Hobson's or even her mother's face she saw. It was Castle's. Just the thought made her dizzy. "Have you called Gina or Paula?"

"No. I was hoping he was with you" said Alexis. Her voice was shaking.

"Alexis, is your gran there?" Kate asked. Though Alexis was an unusually mature and level-headed teenager, Kate still hated the idea of the girl being alone and scared.

"No, she's at a spa Upstate this weekend."

"Okay" said Kate, breathing deeply. She could handle this. She could. "I'm gonna make a couple of calls, and I'll be there as soon as I can. I need you to stay calm for me, though, and make sure you call if you hear from your dad. I'm sure this is all just a misunderstanding." That was an outright lie, but she wanted so badly for it to be true. She wanted so badly for Castle to come slinking in, doing his walk of shame, clothes and hair rumpled, buttons missing off of his shirt. She wanted to yell at him, to hit him and tell him to never scare her like that again. She wanted to feel his warm, solid arms around her as they had been too few times before. _Wait...no. Scratch that last part._

Alexis's voice brought her back to the present. "Okay Detective Beckett."

"I'll be there soon" Kate promised.

"Thank you." The sincerity in Alexis's voice nearly broke her heart.

"Sure thing, kiddo."

Kate hung up and immediately began searching her contacts for the near-forgotten number of Gina Cowell, Castle's publisher/ex-wife/ex-girlfriend. Ignoring the concerned questions of Ryan and Esposito, she hit send and bit her lower lip nervously as she listened to the rings.

"Hello?" Gina answered.

"Gina, this is Kate Beckett."

"What can I do for you, Detective?" Gina asked cooly. Things had always been strained between the two women, though they had very little contact. Jealousy ran in both directions.

"I was just calling to see if you've heard from Castle recently.''

_"_No I haven't, actually" said Gina, irritated. "I must have called a dozen times. He walked out of the book signing an hour earlier yesterday, saying he had to take a call, and he never came back. You can imagine what I had to deal with after that little stunt. And then he has the nerve not to return my calls?" Gina paused for a moment. "Frankly, I assumed he was with you" her tone was icy.

Kate was too worried to even acknowledge the last statement. "No one has heard from him since the book signing yesterday. What time did he leave?"

"He didn't talk to Alexis?" Gina asked, her tone now full of concern.

"No, she called me this morning to say he didn't make it home last night and she hasn't heard from him. What time did he leave the bookstore yesterday?"

"A little after three. You don't think something happened…?"

Kate hesitated, not wanting to create a hysteria. If Gina went to the press about the situation it could make a bad situation worse. However, honesty was always best. "I'm not sure yet, Gina, but it's starting to look that way. Do me a favor and don't say anything for the time being?"

"Of course I won't, Detective" Gina sounded offended by the assumption.

"Thanks" said Kate. "Let me know if you hear anything, will you?"

"I will, and you'll do the same?"

"Sure. Thanks."

"Beckett what the hell is goin' on?" Esposito demanded as soon as Beckett ended the call.

The senior detective clenched her fists, pressing her hands into the table to stop them from shaking. "Nobody's heard from Castle since yesterday afternoon. He got a call while he was at the book signing, ran out to take it and never came back." Ryan and Esposito looked horrified and concerned. Though Beckett was closest with Castle, both boys also counted him among their closest friends. "I'm gonna call Gates and tell her I need a sick day."

"In that case you better tell her we need one too" said Ryan, adamant.

"Yeah, we're on this, Beckett'' said Esposito. "See if Gates'll give Hobson investigation to Karpowski's team."

Beckett dialed. Captain Victoria Gates answered on the third ring. "It's Sunday morning, Detective" she said without preamble. "This had better be good."

"Quite the opposite, actually" said Beckett. "I got a call from Castle's daughter this morning. It seems no one has seen or heard from Castle since yesterday afternoon."

"He's probably out banging one of his groupies" said Gates carelessly. Gates was not Castle's biggest fan, though their relationship had improved significantly over the past few months. Gates was ever-so-gradually coming to understand Castle's value at the precinct.

"He disappeared from his book signing yesterday afternoon and hasn't contacted anyone since. He hasn't even called his daughter. Castle wouldn't do that to Alexis. Not ever. The boys and I would like to request that our current case be reassigned so that we can work on locating Castle."

Gates sighed. "And if I say no?"

"Then I would say that I'm not feeling well at all, Captain, and I need to take a sick day."

"Fine. I'll call Karpowski. You better be right about this, Detective."

Beckett sighed. "Frankly, Captain, I hope I'm wrong."


	2. Calls

_Umm...wow. Pretty overwhelming response so far. This is a bit of a shorty, but I'll see if I can hook ya any more with this one. :)_

_Please continue to review! Can't tell you how much I enjoy your feedback._

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><p>Chapter 2: Calls<p>

Eduardo, Castle's doorman, merely waved and smiled in greeting as he let Kate into the building. As she rode the elevator up to Castle's seventh floor apartment, she wondered vaguely when she had started spending enough time at the loft for Castle's doorman to recognize her, address her by name and admit her without question. She also wondered when the damn elevator had gotten so slow.

The door to Castle's loft was wrenched open mere seconds after Beckett knocked, revealing a rather distressed-looking redhead. ''Detective Beckett!" Alexis exclaimed, pulling Kate into a tight hug. "Have you heard from Dad?" Alexis ushered Kate into the loft, closing the door behind her.

"I haven't, sweetie, I'm sorry." Kate led Alexis to the sofa and sank down next to her.

They sat in silence for a while, Alexis staring blankly into space while Kate looked around the apartment, carefully examining every aspect of the home. It looked the same as always: orderly, lived-in, luxurious but functional. The smell was hadn't changed either, the homey scent of spices and coffee mingled with the freshness of clean laundry and something that was just Castle. The loft had always made Kate feel safe, even the first time she entered.

Considering what had been going on in the loft at that time, this was a very strange thing to admit. She distinctly remembered the sight of Castle wrenching open the door in full laser tag apparel, the toy pistol being fired at her face and the shocked, embarrassed expression on Castle's face as Alexis appeared wearing a matching getup. As if that wasn't strange enough, Martha had then materialized in the doorway wearing a mud mask, a robe, slippers, and a white towel wrapped around her head, saying with her usual dramatic flair "darling, are we entertaining?" Kate couldn't remember receiving a stranger welcome, with the possible exception of the time Castle had come to the door in his Steampunk ensemble.

Yet in spite of the loft's imposing size and eccentric occupants, it had a very comforting quality about it. And Kate had always been welcomed with open arms at the dwelling, even and especially when she was at her lowest. Like when her apartment had been blown up and they had happily allowed Kate to occupy the guest room for more than a week. Or when her mother's case had reared its ugly head and she had needed someone to talk to, the way Martha had welcomed her with a comforting hug and Castle had dropped everything to do whatever she needed "including nothing, if that's what you want."

Sitting on the couch Kate had spent so many hours on, the smell of Castle's subtle, masculine cologne lingering in the air, Kate half expected to look into the office and find the writer typing away, oblivious to the worries of the world around him. Or maybe he would emerge from his bedroom, damp, messy hair sticking out in all directions in that way that Kate found so adorable. But he didn't, of course, and wouldn't. The only thing she and the boys had managed to find out in the hour since Alexis's call was that Castle was most definitely missing.

"Have you spoken with Martha?" Kate finally asked the youngest of the Castle clan.

Alexis nodded, her pale, porcelain face oddly blank but her eyes filled with pain and worry. Kate was suddenly terrified for Alexis, afraid that this sweet, innocent, bright, beautiful young woman would find herself in the same position Kate had at the age of nineteen. "She's packing now" said Alexis quietly, staring at the picture of Castle and Martha on the end table. "I think she'll be back in a couple of hours."

"Good" said Kate. "Listen, Gates is letting Ryan, Esposito and I off of our current case so we can find your dad. We _will_ find him." Alexis nodded and smiled pathetically. Kate wished she could promise that they would find him alive and well, but she tried not to make promises she might not be able to keep. And even that thought terrified her. Kate Beckett liked to consider herself a strong woman, but she knew that if Castle didn't make it out of this it would break her. And if she was being honest with herself she knew exactly why that was.

Kate's phone rang sharply, startling both women. "Beckett" Kate answered.

"Yo" said Esposito over the noise of traffic in the background. "How's Little Castle?"

"She's hanging in there" said Kate, squeezing Alexis's hand. "Have you found anything?"

"Whole lot of nada, Beckett" said Esposito. It took quite a lot to shake the former soldier, but Kate could've sworn she heard the man's voice break just slightly. "Several employees of the businesses around the bookstore saw Castle walk by in a hurry, going south on Broadway. He was on the phone and they said he looked upset. But after that it's like he disappeared. Uniforms are canvassing."

"Have you checked his phone records?" Beckett asked.

"We're on the way back to the precinct now, Tech should have 'em ready by the time we get there."

"Thanks, Esposito" said Beckett. "Let me know if you find anything.

"Sure thing, Beckett. And tell Little Castle we're gonna find him."

"Okay, Javi." Kate ended the call and turned to Alexis, repeating Javier's message.

"But they didn't find anything" Alexis said mournfully.

"No. They didn't."

A single tear drained from Alexis's flooded eyes and slid down her cheek. "I love my mom" she said softly. "I really do. But Daddy…if he…"

"Alexis you can't think like that" said Kate, taking both the girl's hands and looking her in the eye. "He hasn't even been gone a day, yet, and we've_ just _started looking. Your dad's one of the strongest people I know. Don't give up on him. And whatever you do, don't ever tell him I said that."

Alexis laughed weakly and nodded as Kate gave her hands another squeeze. "Okay. You can help us with this, actually. Has your dad been acting strangely over the past few days?" Alexis raised her eyebrows. "I mean more so than usual."

"Nothing out of the ordinary, no. He's been busier than normal with Nikki Heat promotional stuff, but otherwise…"

"Do you remember seeing anyone hanging around the loft?" Kate asked. "Maybe a strange car parked on the street?"

"Not that I noticed, but I really wasn't paying that much attention.'' Alexis smiled weakly. ''Details are Dad's thing, so if anyone was going to notice something like that it would've been him. He's super protective, you know? He always double-checks everything where my safety is concerned." Alexis rolled her eyes slightly. "You know how protective he is. And if he _did_ see some creeper hanging around he'd have told you about it."

"What about someone who might want to hurt him?" asked Kate, though she knew the answer.

"Pretty much everybody, really" said Alexis. This was_ not_ the answer Kate had anticipated, and her elevated eyebrows indicated as much. Alexis flashed a genuine smile this time. It was fleeting, but it was still there. "I mean, you threaten to hurt him pretty much daily, though I'm not saying he doesn't deserve it. I've felt the same way more times than I'd like to admit. And then there's Gina and Paula, who threaten all kinds of bodily harm when he's late with a manuscript.'' Alexis's teasing tone disappeared. "Then there are all the people you guys put away, so that's practically a prison full. And then the crazy stalker fans."

"Any fans in particular?"

"Not really. If Dad sees a creepy one or another marriage proposal he just doesn't finish reading it. He never mentions it to me."

At some point Kate would ask exactly how many marriage proposals Castle had received, but she had other things on her mind at the moment. Kate had really been hoping something would jump out at her, something easy, something to make this case simple. _Right_. Since when had anything involving Castle been simple?

"Alright, Alexis" said Kate, her tone much more relaxed than she was feeling. "What about phone calls? Maybe people hanging up, or calls late at night?"

"Detective Beckett, these days the only person who calls my dad late at night is you." Alexis gave Beckett a significant look.

Kate didn't have time to ask what Alexis meant or issue any kind of rebuttal, as the redhead's phone took that opportunity to ring. Alexis practically pounced on the buzzing device. Her face fell when she saw the name on the screen, but her voice was kind when she greeted her boyfriend. "Hey, Ashley."

The conversation was brief, but Kate heard enough to know that it wasn't altogether pleasant. "What's up?" she asked Alexis as soon as the teenager ended the call.

"Ashley said it's all over the internet that Dad's gone missing" said Alexis, irate. "He doesn't know where it started, but apparently practically every news site has some sort of 'famous author kidnapped' headline."

Beckett was confused and irritated. It was likely that the offending citizen was one of the people Ryan and Esposito questioned, but it was awfully soon for the information to have spread to the point that Alexis's boyfriend would've known about it. It could have come from Gina, she supposed, but deep down Beckett knew that the publisher wasn't responsible. She might not be the woman's biggest fan, but Kate was sure that Gina would never endanger Castle's life. In addition to being her ex-husband and ex-boyfriend, meaning that, at least at some point, she had loved him, Castle was also Gina's meal ticket. She needed him to be in perfect health.

Beckett didn't even have time to question Alexis further before her own phone was ringing, the display showing a number she didn't recognize. "Beckett" she answered, praying she would hear the familiar sultry tones of her partner on the other line.

"I expected you to be pounding on every door in the city by this time, Detective" said an unfamiliar male voice. "You must not care about him as much as I thought you did."

"Who is this?" Kate demanded.

The man on the phone just laughed, the sound sending chills up Beckett's spine. "Don't you wish it was that easy. I'm a little disappointed, really. I didn't want to have to let the press know myself. Between the publisher, the daughter and the muse I figured they would've known last night. Oh well." The voice was cold, cruel, and contained a sort of devious intelligence.

"Where's Castle?"

The man laughed again, a hard, merciless sound, and said nothing else. Kate tried again. "Who are you?"

''You can call me Bill, if you want."

_At least that's something_, Kate thought. "Where's Castle?" She asked again, hoping "Bill" was in a more divulgatory mood.

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, Detective" said Bill apologetically, "not until you help me out with something."

"With what?" Kate asked.

Bill continued as if she hadn't spoken. "If you help me out, your writer won't end up like Mr. Hobson."

"Hobson?" Kate asked, confused. "You killed Gary Hobson?"

Bill laughed again. "I thought that would get your attention. I'm serious about this, Detective, you should know that."

"What do you want?" Kate asked, cursing the desperation in her voice. She needed to know that Rick was okay, she needed to know what she had to do to get him back. Her heart thudded violently at the thought of never seeing him again, of never hearing him crack an inappropriate joke or say "good morning, Beckett" in that way of his. She needed to get lost in those too blue eyes again, to hear his laugh and stand too close to him and…oh, hell. Who was she kidding? She needed _Castle_.

"We'll chat again soon" said Bill, and the line went dead.


	3. Briefing

_Thank y'all SO MUCH for your overwhelmingly kind response. Please continue to review and let me know what I can do to make this story better. _

_I saw an advertisement for a new Taylor Lautner (spelling?) movie called "Abduction" last night. Trust me when I tell you that this is NOT where I got the idea for this story. Not a TL fan, particularly. I actually got the idea while re-watching "little girl lost" from season 1. God only knows why my mind works the way it does. _

_Not much else to say, other than the USUAL DISCLAIMER...so on with chapter 3._

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><p><strong>Chapter 3: Briefing<strong>

Beckett left the loft mere moments after Martha arrived. It had been nearly two hours since "Bill" had called, and Kate was anxious to get back to the precinct. Hell, she was prepared to start pounding on every door in the city if she had to. She had already called and filled the boys in on the situation, and received their not-so-promising news in return.

"Unies found blood a couple of blocks from the bookstore" Esposito had informed her. "In an alley. Lanie says it's Castle's blood type."

Kate's breath caught, a fresh wave of panic sweeping over her. She cleared her throat and spoke softly so as not to alarm Alexis, who was in the kitchen trying to scrounge up something edible. "How much blood are we talking about?" Beckett's voice was shaking, as was the hand holding her phone. She took a deep, steadying breath, trying to keep her emotions in check.

"Not a lot" Esposito said firmly, and rather quickly. "Not like he bled out, or anything. Just…if it is Castle, he's beat up pretty bad." Esposito paused for a moment, then sighed. "We also found his phone. Same alley."

Kate had passed the news on to Alexis and Martha as gently as she could, promising that she would keep them apprised of the situation. As soon as the actress had arrived, Alexis broken down, sobbing on Martha's shoulder while her grandmother's tears flowed silently down her cheeks. Kate, feeling distinctly awkward and unneeded, had made her apologies as she left for the precinct. Martha and Alexis both hugged her tightly and thanked her, for what Kate didn't know.

Back at the 12th, Beckett and the boys were seated in the bullpen waiting for the rest of the precinct to assemble. They were quieter than usual, the silence magnified by the empty chair by Beckett's desk which should have been occupied by the ebullient writer. Ryan was alternately fiddling with everything he could put his hands on and pacing around the bullpen, nervously rearranging the murder -no, _not_ murder, because Castle wasn't dead- rearranging the _board_ over and over again. Esposito was seated on the edge of the desk, jaw clenched tightly, focusing intently on a decades-old burn mark on the scuffed wood floor. Beckett was in shock, pretending to stare at the mu-... the _board_, tired of the pitying, worried gazes her colleagues kept shooting in her direction.

Captain Gates strode over in her usual square-shouldered, stoic, all-business manner. She stood next to Beckett's desk, cleared her throat, and waited for silence to fall over the accumulated officers and detectives.

"As I'm sure you're all aware, considering the way gossip flies around this precinct," Gates began, "we are currently dealing with a murder/kidnapping involving someone with whom we are all quite familiar. No matter what your relationship with Mr. Castle, I want to make it very clear that we are treating this case just as we would treat any other." Gates shot a look at Beckett and maintained eye contact throughout her next statement. "Any deviation from protocol will result in immediate removal from this case. Is there an understanding between us?"

A murmured "yes, Captain" echoed throughout the room. Beckett merely nodded, unflinching under Gates's icy stare. "Good" said Gates, turning her attention back to the room. "Detective Beckett will brief you on the case. Detective?"

Beckett stepped forward, taking a steadying breath. In order to stay on the case she had to maintain her professionalism, despite the fact that every fiber of her being wanted to scream at the crowd of officers to stop staring at her, to go out and start questioning everyone in sight. Kate had never felt such soul-deep desperation in her life, such a crippling need to see another human being. The only thing she wanted was to see Castle alive again.

Beckett took another deep breath and began, her voice surprisingly steady. "Our first victim is Gary Hobson, white male, age thirty six, brown hair and blue eyes, shot four times in the chest with a .38 and left in an alley in Hell's Kitchen. The ME estimates time of death between nine p.m. Friday and one a.m. yesterday."

Beckett swallowed hard, preparing herself to speak the next words. "The second victim is Richard Cas-" Kate's voice broke slightly on the name. She steeled herself, cleared her throat, and plowed on. "Excuse me. Richard Castle, white male, age forty one, dark brown hair and blue eyes." _So incredibly blue_. "Mr. Castle was kidnapped some time after three o'clock yesterday, we believe he was taken from an alley near 96th and Broadway. The ME has confirmed blood found in that alley as belonging to Mr. Castle, but does not believe that his wounds were fatal. Castle's phone was also found in the alley. We believe that the kidnapper used a phone call, received around three o'clock Saturday, to lure Castle out of his book signing and into a position where he could be easily abducted. The call was from a blocked number, and we have been unable to get an ID.

"This afternoon at approximately three thirty, I received a call from a man who confessed to killing Mr. Hobson and suggested that he was responsible for Mr. Castle's disappearance as well. The call was recorded, but the number was untraceable. The man identified himself as 'Bill.' We expect him to call again within the next few hours. In the meantime we need to look into all of the cases Mr. Castle has been involved in while consulting here at the 12th. We also need to search traffic cams in the area, look closely into Castle's phone and financial records and his associates. Karpowski's team will continue looking into Hobson's associates and records to see if there's any connection there.

"As you know, with kidnappings we're very much on the clock. After forty-eight hours the chances of finding a victim alive diminish greatly." Kate's voice broke again, but she covered it more easily this time. "We're already more than twenty four hours into this kidnapping, so we need to move quickly on this." _Please, god, you have to find him_.

Beckett began doling out assignments, and as the officers and detectives dispersed Kate felt a slight surge of hope. She could see the determination on their faces, the worry they shared with her, at least to some extent. Everyone at the 12th liked Castle. They considered the writer a part of their team, one of their own, and you don't mess with a member of the NYPD family. They would find him. They had to.

"Mama Castle and Little Castle okay?" asked Ryan once the crowd had thinned.

"As okay as can be expected" said Beckett honestly. "They're terrified.''

"We all are" said Esposito, almost inaudibly. He straightened, squaring his jaw. "Okay, Boss, what's our move?"

"Have you found any connection between Hobson and Castle?" Beckett asked.

"Other than the fact that they're both writers, they're close to the same age, they have the same build and hair and eye color…no.'' Ryan sighed, taking a seat next to Beckett on the edge of her desk, Esposito on her other side.

"So he killed Hobson as a warning?" Esposito asked in a tone of disbelief. "No other reason?"

Beckett nodded. "Looks that way. He told me he wants us to know he's serious. Though that doesn't explain why he took Hobson's watch and wallet."

"Maybe he's short on cash" Ryan offered. "Maybe that's why he took Castle in the first place. Maybe he's gonna make a ransom demand."

"Then why call me?" asked Beckett. "I have no control over Castle's finances. If that's what he wanted he'd have called Martha or Paula or, hell, even Alexis. Not me." Beckett put her face in her hands for a moment, blinking back tears of fear and frustration. "Okay. Options. We can't trace Castle's phone. Bill's calling from an untraceable number. No one saw anything. Hobson's family and Castle's family didn't notice anything out of the ordinary." Beckett snapped her fingers, struck by a sudden realization. "The media."

"What?" Ryan and Esposito spoke simultaneously.

"Bill said_ he_ had to call the media, which means he wants them involved for some reason. We need to find out who he called and what he said, maybe that'll help us figure out what he's up to."

"On it" said Esposito, just as Beckett's phone rang.

Another blocked number. "Esposito, Ryan I need you to try and get a trace" said Beckett, as calmly as possible. They were in position in an instant. The hardened detective swallowed the bile that had risen in her throat and answered, putting the phone on speaker. "Beckett."

"Hello again, Detective" said the haunting voice. "Remember me?"

"What can I do for you, Bill?"

Bill chuckled. "Not one for pleasantries, are you Detective Beckett? That's alright. Though you really shouldn't be so rude to someone who's in control of your…what_ is_ Castle to you, exactly? I really am curious."

"Join the club" said Esposito.

Bill laughed, a full-bodied, jovial, and utterly chilling laugh. "Javier Esposito, am I right? It really is a treat to get to speak with all of you. Is Detective Ryan nearby as well?"

"Where's Castle, you jackhole?" The Irish detective spat.

"Testy, aren't we? You aren't worried about your writer friend, are you?"

"Shouldn't we be?" Beckett asked.

"He's still alive for now, though it was a close call. He's remarkably annoying.''

"Tell us about it" said Beckett.

"Though I have to admit, I didn't expect him to have quite so much fight in him. He gave me a bloody nose, do you believe that?" said Bill, amused.

"Don't expect us to feel too sorry about that, Bill" Beckett growled.

"Oh, I don't. Are you ready to hear about that favor you're going to do for me, Detectives?"

"You sound pretty sure of yourself, Bill" said Beckett. "What makes you so sure we'll do anything for you?"

"You want your…_friend_ back" Bill said simply.

"We won't do anything for you until we know that Castle's okay" Ryan said in his most firm tone.

Bill's apologetic tone was somehow more disturbing than if he had threatened them. "I'm afraid you'll have to wait, Detective Ryan. Mr. Castle isn't conscious at the moment." They heard a dull thump in the background, along with a small pop that sounded horribly like a bone breaking. "I'll be happy to let you speak with him later, though, as long as you get started on that favor. I'm sure it might take some time."

"Alright, Bill" said Beckett. She was growing more nauseous by the second. "What favor?"

"You're going to release a prisoner from Riker's, someone you put there. His name is Marcus Gates."

"Marcus Gates?" Esposito practically shouted.

"That's correct, Detective Esposito. Marcus Gates. I'm sure you remember him. He's in prison for two counts of murder and one count of attempted murder, he was the Triple Killer's designated copycat if I remember correctly."

"What do you want with Gates?" Ryan demanded, his face much paler than usual. The Triple Killer, who was still out there somewhere with Ryan's gun and badge, was a sore subject with the youngest detective.

Bill ignored the question. "You have two days, Detectives. I'll be in touch." There was a loud click as Bill ended the call.

The three detectives were silent for a long moment before Ryan finally spoke softly. "Couldn't trace it."

* * *

><p>"Have you looked into Gates's known associates?" the Captain asked when the detectives finished briefing her on Bill's most recent call.<p>

"We're still looking into it, Captain" said Beckett, "but so far we haven't found anything. The only associates we're aware of Gates having are his foster brother Paul, who's in custody for accessory, and Jerry Tyson."

"What about Tyson?" asked Captain Gates.

"It's not him" said Ryan firmly.

The Captain raised her perfectly sculpted eyebrows. "Would you care to elaborate on what makes you so goddamn sure, Detective Ryan?"

Ryan cleared his throat. His color still hadn't returned entirely, but his voice didn't waver as he spoke. "First of all, Captain, I'd know Tyson's voice anywhere. I spent a lot of time talking with that psychopath, trying to get all the information we could on Marcus Gates when we were under the impression that Gates was the Triple Killer. Secondly, Tyson likes to strangle pretty blonde women, not shoot writers in the chest. And thirdly, I'm absolutely certain that if Tyson _was_ going to shoot someone he would've done it with my gun, which was a 9mm, not a .38."

The Captain nodded, apparently convinced. "Either way, we're absolutely not releasing Marcus Gates."

"Captain-" Beckett began, but was interrupted.

"Out of the question, Beckett" the Captain snapped. "He's sentenced to life in prison for murdering two women and trying to kill a third. He's a sociopath, and he's staying exactly where he is." Captain Gates looked appraisingly at each of the detectives in turn, then spoke again. "I am willing to make a few overtures, to make it _appear _as if we're in the process of negotiating his release. I'll buy you some time, Detectives, but that's all I can do. I suggest you get back to work."

After the requisite murmured "yes, Captain"s, Beckett, Esposito and Ryan exited Gates's office and headed back to Beckett's desk.

"Yo Beckett, you okay?" Esposito asked, eyeing the lead detective warily.

No. She wasn't okay. She was furious. She was terrified. She was shaking from head to toe, feeling sick to her stomach, her head pounding. She was helpless. They had nothing, and there was nothing that she could do to help Castle when he needed her most. Alexis needed her father, and Kate was doing nothing. Martha needed her son, and Kate was sitting on her ass. And Kate needed…._fuck_. All Kate needed was Castle.

Beckett was pacing, fists clenched, jaw tight, mind racing. "Beckett" said Ryan softly, taking a tentative step in her direction. "Maybe you should get some air, huh?"

"Get some air?" Beckett snapped. "What the hell is that gonna do? Me getting some air isn't gonna get us any closer to finding this bastard and getting Castle back! Unless you think Rick's on the roof? I'm not going anywhere until he's back, okay? He wouldn't leave me, and I'm not leaving him."

"Nobody's asking you to, Beckett" said Esposito, using a firmer hand. "But you freak out in the bullpen and the Captain's gonna see you and she's gonna flip a shit and send you home. And then you won't be able to do a damn thing. I don't care what you gotta do, but if you wanna stay…you pull it together."

Beckett merely stared at Esposito in silence for a moment before turning and striding hurriedly into the locker rooms, bursting through the doors just as the sob she had been choking back all day escaped her lips and the tears began streaming frantically down her cheeks.


	4. Tears, Trysts and Truths

_Y'all are amazing. Seriously. Sooooo many story alerts and favorites, and quite a few reviews as well. I'm not entirely sure about a few things in this chapter, so please review and let me know whether or not this sucks. I appreciate your comments one way or the other! _

_On with Chapter 4..._

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><p><strong>Chapter 4: Tears, Trysts and Truths<strong>

Kate had no idea how long she sat on that filthy locker room floor, alternately sobbing and crying silently with the occasional rushed trip into the bathroom stall to throw up. She didn't remember the last time she had reacted this way to anything. It was as if her safety net was gone.

Kate Beckett had been through stressful, frightening situations before. God, had she ever. She had helped her father crawl out of the clutches of alcoholism when she herself had been drowning in grief. She had gone up against serial killers, one of which had blown up her apartment. Hell, she chased psychopaths all day, every day. She had been shot, shot at, nearly frozen to death, and stood mere inches from a ticking dirty bomb, watching helplessly as the timer clicked down to zero. She'd faced down mobsters and thugs and the man who killed her mother. So why the hell was this so crippling?

If she was honest with herself, though, she knew why. It was all of the things that were left unsaid and undone. It was the fact that Castle was so much more than just her favorite author or her partner or her best friend. It was so much more than the fact that she owed him her life a hundred times over, which she did. Kate had long since lost count of how many times Rick had pulled her out of the line of fire, or saved her from a bomb, or kept her from freezing to death.

It was the fact that Richard Castle was there for her when no one else was, and even when she lied and told him she didn't want him to be. It was the fact that this silly, immature playboy author had managed to weave his way through every barrier she had put up and find his way firmly entrenched in her heart. It was the fact that Castle was so much more than a silly, immature playboy author; he was a rock, though few people saw it. It was the fact that Kate was completely, helplessly, irrevocably in love with him and she had been too scared and too stubborn to do anything about it.

Some time had passed when the curvy, petite ME slid down the wall and plopped on the floor next to Kate, wordlessly offering a bottle of Sprite.

"Thanks, Lanie" Kate croaked, astounded at how awful she sounded.

"The boys said you haven't eaten all day, and on my way in Velazquez told me you'd been puking and crying for the last hour. I figured you could use the fluid replacement" said Lanie casually. "You do realize you owe me, right?"

Kate glanced over at Lanie through swollen eyes. "Why's that?"

"This floor is highly unsanitary. _ And_ these are new pants I'm probably ruining right now" said the ME, spunky as always. "If I didn't love you so much there's no way in hell I'd be down here."

Kate smiled weakly, grateful for her friend's attempt at humor. "Have the boys found anything?"

"_New York Post_ got the first lead, anonymous tip, but Javi said they won't turn over the record. They're working on a court order, but seein' as it's Sunday night they're having a hell of a time with it."

"I should be helping" Kate murmured, guilt washing over her for perhaps the thousandth time that day.

Lanie shot her a look. "No offense, girl, but you wouldn't be a whole lotta help in your current condition."

Kate sighed. "I know."

"Look, nobody would blame you if you needed to sit this one out."

"I _can't_, Lanie" said Kate, her tone almost pleading. "I can't just sit at home. I've gotta help find him."

Lanie smiled. "I knew you were gonna say that, just thought it was worth a shot."

Kate's phone buzzed once again, and a wave of panic coursed through her. She checked the ID, but it was not a blocked number that flashed on the screen. Far from easing Kate's anxiety, however, she found the sight of the familiar face anything but comforting. "Hi, Josh" she greeted her boyfriend, sounding no less wretched than she had when she had greeted Lanie.

"Kate, where the hell are you?" Josh snapped. "We had plans. I've been waiting for you at the restaurant for half an hour."

Kate was tempted to throw the phone against the bathroom wall. She would have, probably, if Bill hadn't been calling on it. She didn't want to deal with Josh, the boyfriend -in name only, she admitted even to herself- who hadn't so much as crossed her mind in the last two days. He had been on shift, and these days it seemed that it was out of sight, out of mind where Dr. Josh Davidson was concerned. Kate honestly couldn't even remember why they were still together.

"Kate?" said Josh after a few moments of tense silence. "Where are you?"

"At the precinct."

Josh heaved a deep, frustrated sigh. "Kate, we've talked about this. I know your work is important to you, but we hardly have any time together as it is. Can you not leave it for one night? Your dead body will still be there in the morning."

"Josh-"

"No, Kate. I'm sick of having this argument" Josh interrupted. "Can I come pick you up from the precinct so we can go to dinner or not?"

Kate's anger was building. Though he claimed to understand, Josh knew _nothing _about why her work was so important to her; though to be fair that was because she hadn't talked to him about it. Sure, he knew the vague details of her mother's case, but not enough to have gleaned any real understanding. That wasn't really his fault. But this time…this time was different from any other case, and he just couldn't shut up and let her explain that. Not that her distress over Castle's disappearance would make Josh any happier. In all likelihood it would piss him off even more, but Kate was beyond caring about that. All she really cared about was Castle.

"Look, Josh" she snapped, her voice still thick and scratchy, "I'm dealing with a little more than a dead body right now. I'm sorry if that interferes with your dinner plans, but frankly I have more important things to worry about."

There was silence for a long moment on Josh's end before he finally asked, "is everything okay, Kate? You sound a little bit upset."

Kate's first thought was that Castle would have asked her what was wrong the second she picked up the phone while Josh, the man she was supposedly sharing her life with, was just now picking up on her distress. How fucked up was this situation?

"No" Kate answered brusquely. "I'm not okay."

"What's wrong?"

Kate hesitated, unsure whether she really wanted to hear Josh's commentary on this situation. "Castle was kidnapped yesterday" she finally said.

"By one of his rabid fans?" Josh asked stiffly.

"We don't _know_ by whom, Josh. Some psycho who shot and killed a journalist and kidnapped Castle and keeps calling me on _this_ phone, so I really need to hang up now.''

"Kate…I'm sorry" Josh said. His tone was genuine, if a little sheepish. "Do you need anything?"

"Yeah, but it's not something you can help me with.'' Kate was aware of how harsh her words were, but somehow she didn't care. "I'll talk to you later, Josh."

"Wow" said Lanie when Kate ended the call without giving Josh a chance to respond. "You wanna talk about it?"

"Talk about what?"

"Oh, I dunno," said Lanie, "maybe the reason you're still with Josh when you obviously care more about Castle than you do about him, and have since somewhere around...the beginning? Or maybe the real reason you've been in here breakin' down for the past hour instead of helping look for Castle, which is about the last thing I'd expect you to do. I can count on one hand the number of times I've seen you cry, Kate."

"What do you want me to say, Lanie?" Kate asked. "I just…''

"Girl, you know you can talk to me."

"I hate how much I've started relying on him, Lanie" Kate snapped. "No matter what, Castle's just always there. He always knows what I need to keep me from…from doing _this_. Now he's not here, and I can't function. I hate that! I'm not supposed to need anybody like that!"

"Honey…" Lanie sighed, wrapping a comforting arm around Kate's shoulders. "It's okay to admit that you're scared."

Kate laughed softly. "I'm terrified. If he… What about Alexis and Martha and…?"

"You" Lanie finished.

Kate nodded, a single tear trailing down her cheek and falling on to her hand with a weak splash.

"You love him" Lanie whispered.

Kate put her head in her hands. "Why did everybody else figure that out before I did?" she asked, lifting her head and smiling pitifully.

"You figured it out, you're just too stubborn to admit it."

"Stubborn or stupid? And now…"

"Kate Beckett" Lanie said firmly, coming to kneel in front of Kate and lifting her chin so that the detective looked her in the eye. "He's not dead yet. You get up, go out there and help the boys find him, cause God knows they're lost without you keepin' em in line. Especially since they're just as scared as you are, you know they've got that bromance love triangle goin' on." Kate chuckled, wiping at her eyes. Lanie smiled. "You're gonna find him, Beckett. And when you do, if you and Writer Boy don't get your shit together I swear to god imma kick your skinny little ass."

With the first genuine smile of the day, Kate accepted Lanie's outstretched hand and pulled herself from the floor. After washing her tearstained face and taking a few sips of Sprite, Beckett re-emerged from the locker room and strode purposefully into the bullpen.

"Beckett!" Ryan called, practically running in her direction. "Just in time, we've got a lead."

"What is it?" Beckett asked eagerly as Ryan and Esposito converged on her desk.

"Charge on Gary Hobson's credit card at a motel uptown."

"Let's go" said Beckett, grabbing her things and rushing toward the elevator with the boys hot on her heels. "We'll call for backup on the way."

* * *

><p>No less than fifteen heavily-armed officers, along with the three detectives, gathered at the door of room 219 at the run down Starburst Motel. Beckett motioned for the team to watch her, and on her three count they burst through the door.<p>

The scene before them was…unexpected. Rather than finding a bound and gagged Richard Castle and a hovering kidnapper, they discovered a man and woman in the throes of passion. The woman, a blonde with suspiciously dark roots, shrieked and leapt off of the man, covering her naked breasts with the sheet. The man, a scruffy-looking, slightly overweight specimen, just stared in wide-eyed shock at the crowd of New York's finest, glancing back and forth between his naked body and the dozen guns pointed in his direction. After a few awkward moments, the man ever so slowly raised his hands into the air in what would have been a classic gesture of innocence had he been slightly less naked.

"Uhhh…." The man cleared his throat. "Can I help you, Officers?"

Nearly an hour later the man, who's name was Matthew Cooper, had located his clothes and was seated in Interrogation 1. His female friend was in the holding cell, since it turned out that she was a professional. Ryan and Esposito would be conducting the interrogation. Iron Gates didn't seem to think that Beckett was capable of maintaining a professional distance.

"Don't think I didn't see your little breakdown earlier" Gates had said. "You can watch from observation."

So that's where Beckett was, watching as Ryan followed Esposito through the door and into Interrogation 1. "Matthew Cooper, I'm Detective Ryan, this is Detective Esposito."

Ryan pulled out the chair across from Cooper and took a seat. Esposito remained standing, leaning against the wall near the one-way glass as Castle often did. Beckett shook her head to clear the wave of sadness that had washed over her at the thought and turned her attention back to the scene before her.

"You're in big trouble here, Mr. Cooper" Ryan was saying. "We've got you dead to rights on solicitation and possession of stolen property, but those really aren't your biggest problems. Your biggest problem is that the stolen property you were in possession of belonged to the guy you shot." None of them really thought that Cooper was behind Castle's kidnapping, but he certainly had some explaining to do. And any good cop knows that the threat of a murder charge is a good way to get a perp to talk.

"Hang on!" Cooper shouted. "I didn't shoot anybody!"

Ryan ignored him. "Not to mention the fact that the murder is connected with a kidnapping-"

"Kidnapping!" Cooper shouted. "I didn't…and murder? No way, man, you got the wrong guy.''

"Then maybe you'd like to explain to me how this guy's wallet" Ryan slammed a photo of Hobson's dead body on the table, "ended up in your hotel room? Or maybe how you ended up paying for your little love nest with a dead guy's credit card?"

"I didn't know it was a dead guy's stuff" Cooper insisted. "Dude gave it to me, I figured…why ask questions?"

"Some guy _gave_ you a credit card?" Esposito spoke up, incredulous. "Do we look stupid to you, Matt?"

"I swear!" Cooper insisted. "He gave me this watch, too." He pointed to his wrist.

"Why would he do that?" asked Esposito, striding forward and leaning against the table.

Cooper said nothing, fidgeting nervously and looking down at his scuffed shoes. Esposito gave him a moment before straightening. "That's fine, Cooper" he growled, "we'll see ya in about twenty years."

"It was payment!" Cooper shouted desperately. "Guy said he- he didn't have cash, but if I made a call for him he'd give me the watch and the card. If I'd known it was a dead guy's stuff he was givin' me, I never woulda took it."

"Yeah, you're a real friend to the community, Cooper" said Ryan sarcastically. "What call did he want you to make?"

Cooper hesitated, glanced at Esposito, looked back down and started speaking to his knees. "I had to call the _Post_ and tell them that…" he cleared his throat, "that the cops were investigating Richard Castle's disappearance. He said that the guy got snatched from a public appearance, so if I called in the tip the story would just…go from there. So I called, he gave me the stuff, told me not to say nothin' or call nobody and he just walked off."

"Who was it?" Ryan asked.

"I dunno, some guy" said Cooper, waving his hand. "Never seen him in my life. Just came up to me.''

"Where were you?" Esposito pressed.

"I dunno, man, eatin' a Big Mac on a bench in the park. He just came up to me."

"What'd he look like, Cooper?" Esposito asked, his patience obviously wearing thin.

Cooper thought for a moment. "Average, kinda. Brown hair, needed a shave-" Ryan snorted at the statement, which, coming from Cooper's untidily whiskered mouth, was a bit rich. Cooper ignored him. "He was wearin' sunglasses and a Giants hat, couldn't tell ya much else."

A few minutes later Officer Tomlinson -otherwise known as LT- whisked Matthew Cooper away to sit with a sketch artist before going down to central booking. Ryan and Esposito met Kate in the hallway outside the interrogation rooms, and they walked together back to her desk. Beckett quickly updated the board with the limited information they had gleaned from Cooper, capped the marker, and sat down on the edge of her desk with Ryan and Esposito.

The first rays of light were just beginning to creep through the windows of the twelfth precinct, casting a reddish glow through the still-bustling bullpen. It would've been beautiful, Kate supposed, in any other circumstance, but she found her eyes drawn to the way the light and shadows played across Castle's empty chair, changing the shade from a dull brown to blood red. She shuddered involuntarily and forced her eyes away from the grizzly sight.

"What the hell is this guy up to?" Ryan asked rhetorically, still staring at the board.

"I just hope Cooper gives us a decent sketch" said Esposito.

Beckett nodded, then spotted Karpowski walking by. "Found anything yet?" she asked the other detective.

Karpowski shook her head sadly. "No connection between Hobson and Castle that we can find, and so far nothing unusual going on in either of their lives. But we're still checking."

Beckett took a shaky breath. "Thanks, Karpowski."

"I'm gonna go check on Washbourne and the other guys" said Ryan, standing, "see if they've come up with anything related to your old cases."

Kate nodded and watched him walk off. "Almost all of the guys Castle and I have arrested are still in jail" she remarked. "I doubt we're gonna find anything there."

"You never know" said Esposito, though he didn't sound terribly optimistic either.

"There's something we're not seeing here" said Beckett, standing and taking a step closer to the board. "There's gotta be some connection between Hobson and Castle, or Hobson and Bill, or Bill and Castle. This guy had to have a_ reason_ for doing all of this, we just have to find it."

"Maybe that's something I can help with" said an all-too-familiar voice from somewhere in the vicinity of Beckett's desk. "Kidnappings are kind of my forte, after all.''

Beckett turned slowly and found herself looking directly into the ice blue eyes of Special Agent Will Sorenson, FBI. "Hi Kate."

As if this day wasn't bad enough.

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><p><em>Don't kill me... But please review!<em>


	5. To Hear your Voice Again

_This is my last chapter until next week. Sorry! Can't be helped, though. Here are a few things I have going on between now and then: 1) 5 exams in 2 days, 2) one of my oldest and closest friends's wedding, reception, and rehearsal dinner, 3) class, 4) eating, sleeping (a little) and personal hygiene must continue as usual, 5) yearly physical (whoopee) and last but CERTAINLY not least... 6) CASTLE SEASON 4 PREMIERE! (I'm a tad bit excited.) So...I'm gonna be busy. _

_This is a long one, so I hope it'll tide y'all over between now and next week. I hope that you'll come back when I do! Please continue to review and let me know what you think. Love it, hate it, makes no difference. I appreciate any and all feedback!_

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><p><strong>Chapter 5: To Hear Your Voice Again<strong>

"Will, what the hell are you doing here?" Kate asked, her voice barely above a whisper. Esposito was suddenly conspicuously absent.

"The mayor's concerned, and so are the Writer Monkey's adoring fans. The mayor called in a favor to my director" Will informed her, gazing at Kate through somewhat hungry blue eyes. "I volunteered to come.''

"Why?" Kate asked. It was the most obvious question of those pouring through her mind.

Kate and Will's six month relationship, years ago now, had ended as painfully as it began. Any relationship that starts over a kidnapped little boy can't be expected to end well, Kate supposed, not that she had been in the position to make any relationship work at that point. She had been too broken from her mother's death, too absorbed in solving the case. So when Sorenson had been offered a position in Boston and asked Kate to come with him, there had really been no question. Kate couldn't leave, Will wouldn't stay, so it ended. And Kate had felt as abandoned as she had when her father chose the bottle over his daughter.

Five years later another kidnapping had reunited Kate and Will, though this one had ended less painfully than the first. When Beckett had kicked Castle out of her life for digging into her mother's case, Kate and Will had attempted to ''give it another try." At the time, Will had been a welcome, if ineffective, distraction. But it became obvious after a few weeks that Will wasn't what she needed. She had loved him at one time but those days were long since over. As Castle had so aptly put it, Kate and Will were Yin-Yin; they were too much alike.

"Castle's important to you, Kate" Will replied after a beat, "and regardless of how things ended up between us, you're important to me. I wanna help.''

"I…Thank you" said Kate, looking at her feet. Will was a good guy, really, regardless of what had transpired between them.

Will flashed a somber smile. "So, update me."

Kate spent the next half hour filing Agent Sorenson in on the details of the case, but aside from remarking that the whole ordeal was "bizarre,'' Will offered little insight. He did get on the phone with his guy Morgan from the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, e-mailing the case file and the recordings and assuring Beckett that Morgan would have a profile by that afternoon.

"Beckett!" said Officer Tully, rushing into the bullpen from god-only-knows-where. "We've got a sketch!" he huffed, smiling.

"Thanks Tully" said Beckett, taking the sheet. Ryan, Esposito, and Sorenson rushed over, gazing over her shoulder at the sketch.

The man on the page was horribly average, yet somehow eery-looking even sketched in pencil. He had short-cropped hair, barely visible under his baseball cap, a prominent nose and cheekbones, and a mouth that was pressed into a thin, cruel line. He had a few days' worth of facial hair on his jaw and chin, a patchy sort of growth that would never grow into a decent beard. The very sight of him gave Beckett chills, or perhaps it was simply the knowledge that this cruel-looking individual, who would blend beautifully into the crowded streets of Manhattan, was holding Castle hostage.

* * *

><p>Beckett hardly moved from her desk that day. She poured through case files, looking at family members and friends of killers she and Castle had arrested. She also looked into families of victims of unsolved murders, though there were astoundingly few such cases since Castle had joined the team. She inspected every aspect of Gary Hobson's life, looking for any connection, no matter how small, to Castle. She had Paula send all of Castle's fan mail to the precinct and forced six unfortunate officers to examine the hundreds of marriage proposals and thousands of disturbing fantasies sent by Castle's most dedicated fans. Ryan and Esposito spent most of the day right alongside Beckett, doggedly scouring the files with nearly as much fervor as their boss.<p>

Beckett even looked through Castle's financial records, just in case. She knew he was wealthy, but damn…What was a guy who was worth more than ninety _million_ dollars doing hanging out with a bunch of cops every day? His spending was actually quite modest, considering. Castle donated astonishing sums to a variety of causes, and Kate felt warmth spread through her at the knowledge of his unadvertised generosity. Otherwise they found nothing interesting and nothing remotely helpful.

Sorenson brought Kate coffee a couple of times, but she hardly touched it. Castle always fixed her coffee perfectly and, she hated to admit it, he had spoiled her. Kate could no longer drink the crap she used to gratefully accept from Will. So she let the coffee sit on her desk untouched until the agent walked away, then dumped it down the sink and used Castle's espresso machine to make her own cup. Not as good as Castle's coffee, but for the moment it was as close as she could get.

* * *

><p>Five o'clock arrived with astounding speed, meaning that half of Bill's allotted time had evaporated without a significant lead. Kate felt as though someone had removed all of her internal organs and replaced them with blocks of ice, her recently-repaired heart ripped from her chest. Bill hadn't even called.<p>

Kate wouldn't have even noticed the time had it not been for the arrival of Analyst Derek Morgan's profile. "Kate" Sorenson said, striding over from the printer. "Morgan just sent me the BAU profile."

"Okay" said Beckett, waiting with baited breath alongside an equally eager Ryan and Esposito. "What are we dealing with?"

"Morgan believes that Bill has Antisocial Personality Disorder. It's frequently seen in serial killers, arsonists…Eric Harris, the kid from the Columbine shootings?" The detectives nodded, and Will continued. ''He had it. So we're dealing with a very violent guy, here. Morgan says that 'Bill' is most likely a white male in his mid thirties, which we knew already. He has a reasonably prestigious occupation and is very charming, the type of guy that people really like."

"He's antisocial, but people like him?" Ryan asked, skeptical.

"Yeah" said Will. "APD patients hate people, _all_ people, but they hide it. They want to make people suffer, but they're typically very charismatic. They can convince people to do what they want because they seem so honest, but deep down they're intensely violent. They _enjoy _causing pain." Will hesitated, then spoke more quietly. "Morgan believes that Bill will kill Castle, regardless of whether or not we meet his demands. In fact, he thinks he's made this demand _because_ it's impossible to meet. He wants you to blame yourselves for Castle's death."

"Mother fucker' Esposito breathed, both fists clenched tightly. Ryan's expression echoed the sentiment.

Sorenson squared his shoulders. "That just means we have to find him first" he said, his tone optimistic, before turning back to the BAU report. "Morgan says Bill is also highly intelligent, literate, and his profession is probably related in some way to writing or publishing."

"Okay" said Beckett, standing. Her back cracked loudly, muscles protesting at the movement after having been stationary for so long. "I want background checks and photos for every employee of the _Post,_ the _Times,_ Black Pawn, and the bookstore where Castle disappeared."

"That's a lot of people, Beckett,'' Esposito pointed out, "and I'm not sure they're gonna give up that information without a warrant.''

"Which is why I'm not asking you to check every newspaper and publishing company in the city" Beckett snapped. "We wouldn't be able to get warrants for those, but we'll get more leeway here.''

"Let me get my guys on it" said Sorenson. "Feds have a bit more pull.'' Ryan and Esposito shot him almost identical looks. "No offense" Will amended quickly.

"Okay, fine" said Kate, uninterested in issues of jurisdiction or ego. She would do whatever was necessary to find Castle, even rely on the feds.

Sorenson turned to make his call, but Beckett's phone rang first. "It's him" she announced, and the boys moved into position. "Beckett" she answered.

"Hello again, Detective" said Bill.

"Bill, we were just talking about you."

Bill chuckled. "I'm sure you were, Detective Beckett. I hope you've had a productive day?"

"That we did, Bill" said Beckett. "I wouldn't get too comfortable, if I were you.''

Bill laughed hysterically. "I can see why Mr. Castle likes you so much, Detective. Beautiful, smart, courageous…such an alluring combination. However, I was actually referring to your progress in securing Marcus Gates's release from Riker's."

"We're looking into it, but it'll take some time. My bosses aren't happy" Beckett lied. "What do you want with Gates, anyway? Friend of yours?"

"Nice try, Detective" said Bill sharply, every hint of his congenial tone gone instantaneously. It reappeared just as quickly. "Just make sure you keep working on it. I'd hate for anything to happen to Mr. Castle."

"I won't to do anything more for you until you let me talk to Castle, Bill" said Beckett firmly. Sorenson nodded, giving her the okay sign. Ryan and Esposito just looked nervous.

"Of course, Detective" Bill agreed. "He's sitting right here. I feel I should warn you, he's a bit groggy. Hold for a moment?"

A few muffled, unintelligible sounds made their way through the phone, then silence. After a few tense moments a hoarse, strained voice washed over their ears like a healing salve, speaking a single word. Kate felt it was probably the most beautiful sound she had ever heard.

"Castle."

Kate released the breath she had been holding for days. "Rick it's me, are your okay?"

Castle's breathing was shallow, labored. "Never better" he croaked. "Though the amenities leave something to be desired and the company is vastly worse than I'm used to. I'm feeling a little like Donny Hayes." There was a dull thump and Castle gasped, then coughed.

Sorenson shot Beckett a look that was either confused or concerned, but Beckett was too focused on Castle to pay him any attention. "Castle?" she probed desperately.

Bill's voice floated through the line from a few feet away. "Watch it, Castle. Give me the phone."

"Or what, you're gonna hit me? Or, no. Maybe handcuff me to a pipe?" Castle shot back, then grunted in obvious pain. "Gotta run, Kate" he said through clenched teeth. "Give Alexis a hug for me?"

Kate nearly choked. "You can give her one yourself as soon as we get you out of there" she told him.

Castle coughed again. "Right. Absolutely.''

"Castle, don't piss him off, okay?" Kate pleaded.

"Who me? Never" Castle replied. Kate was relieved that his sense of humor seemed to be intact.

There were a few more muffled sounds, and then Bill's voice returned, his tone perfectly pleasant. "As you can hear, Mr. Castle is still very much alive. Not perfectly healthy, but it's nothing that won't heal." Bill's tone changed entirely, becoming even colder, threatening and filled with violence. "You have twenty four hours to release Marcus Gates. After that…well let's just say that Castle's daughter, mother and adoring fans will be quite unhappy. As will you, Detective, I suspect. Twenty four hours. I'll be in touch."

The moment the line went dead, Beckett picked up her empty coffee mug and hurled it across the room, where it shattered in a satisfying sort of way against the opposite wall. At least twenty pairs of eyes looked in her direction, but the officers and detectives quickly went back to work when Gates emerged from her office.

"What the hell happened here?" the Captain demanded.

"Oh" said Velazquez, who was closest to the wreckage, "sorry Captain, I dropped my mug. Clumsy me." She smiled. Gates obviously didn't believe her, but the captain turned and went back into her office with a mere eye roll. Beckett nodded in thanks, and Velazquez returned the gesture. Kate had never been more grateful to have such a loyal team.

By the time Beckett had cleaned up her mess and returned to the desk, the satisfaction the shattering ceramic had provided had long since vanished. Will strode over, looking remorseful. "What now?" Beckett asked with a sigh.

"I put in the request for the warrants" Sorenson replied, "but it'll be morning before they go through. I'm sorry."

"I'm thinking we should go and talk to Marcus Gates" said Esposito. ''We haven't found a link, but Gates might be able to shed some light on why this jackhole wants him out of prison."

"You think he'll talk?" asked Ryan. "This isn't a stupid guy.''

"Depends on what I offer" said Esposito smugly. "I can be very persuasive."

"Oh, I know" Ryan shot back. "How else would you have gotten Lanie to sleep with you?"

Kate smiled in spite of herself, thankful for the infusion of humor. Her happiness vanished rapidly, however, at the thought that Castle was the one who normally provided this comic relief.

"It's a good idea, but they won't let you in tonight" Kate told them, glancing at her father's watch.

"We'll go first thing in the morning" said Ryan with a nod, and Esposito agreed.

"Beckett" Captain Gates called from her office. "You, Ryan and Esposito need to head out for the night."

"Captain, with all due respect-" Beckett began.

"I don't want to hear it, Detective" Gates interrupted. "It's eight o'clock at night. It's not highly likely that you'll be able to get anything accomplished until tomorrow, and you've been here for forty eight hours straight. Agent Sorenson and the rest of our team can handle things until morning."

"Yes, Sir'' the three detectives grumbled, honoring the Captain's eccentric desire to _not_ be addressed as "ma'am." They grudgingly gathered their things, knowing that it was useless to argue. But that didn't mean that Beckett left without making Sorenson and Karpowski swear up and down to call if they found _anything_ new.

* * *

><p>"Kate, darling, come in" said Martha when she answered the door, a typical greeting without the typical flair. The matriarch looked exhausted, deep bags had formed under her eyes and she was decidedly less put together than usual. For the first time, Martha Rogers actually looked old enough to have a teenage granddaughter.<p>

"I just wanted to check on you and Alexis" said Kate, allowing Martha to usher her through the door. "I hope I didn't bother you."

"Not at all, dear" said Martha. "Alexis is upstairs talking to her mother, trying to console her. Meredith heard about the kidnapping on the news and called in absolute hysterics, offering to hop on a plane right away…as if that would do any good. Alexis is a wreck, and now the poor girl is forced to deal with her melodramatic mother." Martha gestured to the couch. "Have a seat, darling. Can I get you anything?"

"No, thank you. I can't stay long."

''Have you eaten?" Martha asked.

In fact, Kate couldn't remember the last time she'd had anything to eat. She didn't even remember drinking anything more than a few cups of coffee that day. Even still, she didn't feel particularly hungry. ''No, but-''

"Sit right there and I'll reheat something for you" said Martha, sweeping off to the kitchen. "I ordered Chinese, but I'm afraid Alexis and I didn't have much of an appetite this evening."

"That's really not necessary, Martha" Kate attempted, rising from the couch and starting to follow.

"Nonsense, darling" said Martha, waving her hand and gesturing for Kate to resume her seat. "It's no trouble at all, you just sit right there."

Seeing that Martha wouldn't take ''no'' for an answer, Kate sat. Castle's stubbornness and tendency to ensure that she ate at least two square meals a day was hereditary, apparently. Kate turned her attention to the massive television on the wall opposite the couch and watched a red haired man in a flight suit play with a plastic stegosaurus and T-rex.

"It's one of Richard's favorite series" said Martha a few moments later, handing Kate a bowl of chow fun and a glass of red wine. "I'm not usually a fan if this particular genre, but I find this show highly entertaining. The acting is just superb."

Kate nodded, taking a sip of wine before placing her glass on the coffee table and settling into her meal. Martha took a seat beside her. "Have you found anything?" the actress asked after a few moments.

Kate sighed. "I spoke with him today."

"Oh, thank God!" Martha breathed. "So he's alright?"

"He's injured" Kate answered truthfully, ''I don't know how seriously. I'm afraid...we don't really have anything definitive yet, Martha" Kate admitted, then proceeded to update Castle's mother on Matthew Cooper's role in events, the FBI profile and Bill's demands. She left out the less hopeful portions of Agent Morgan's profile, not wanting to alarm the poor woman any further. "The boys are going to talk to Gates in the morning" Kate concluded, "hopefully he'll shed some light.''

''I just can't understand this" said Martha, blue eyes shining with unshed tears. "If he was after money…God knows Richard has enough of it and I'd pay in a heartbeat. But…I just can't wrap my head around _why_. My son doesn't deserve this."

"We'll find him, Martha" Kate promised, taking the older woman's hand. Martha smiled weakly as a single tear drained down her face. She squeezed Kate's hand and wiped at her eyes with her other sleeve.

Rick's eccentric relationship with his family was one of the things Kate loved most about him. In spite of his teasing complaints about his mother, Kate knew that Rick would go to the ends of the earth for her. And Castle's dynamic with Alexis had been what Kate first fell in love with. It killed her to see the effect this jackass was having on this beautiful family.

"Detective Beckett!" Alexis shouted from the stairwell, rushing over to the couch. "What's wrong? Did you find...?"

"No, Alexis, I'm sorry. I spoke with him over the phone today and he seems to be alright, but we haven't found him yet." Alexis nodded, deflating, and sat on the couch beside her grandmother. "The Captain sent me home for the night and I just wanted to check on you and your gram."

"How's Meredith, darling?" Martha asked her granddaughter.

Alexis sighed wearily. "She's okay. I finally talked her out of flying out here. It's not that I don't love her but…Mom can be a little..._much_ and I can't deal with it right now."

"I understand" said Kate, reading Alexis's guilt-laden expression. "How are _you_ doing?"

Alexis shrugged. "I'm okay, I guess. Ashley came by earlier. He leaves for Sanford next week."

The three women sat in silence for a while, staring at the television without really watching. Kate made an effort to eat, knowing she needed nourishment in order to keep going. Not to mention the motherly scolding she'd endure from Martha if she didn't at least try.

"Detective Beckett?" Alexis murmured some time later.

"Alexis, you can call me Kate."

Alexis nodded. "Kate, you should stay here tonight."

Kate's eyes widened drastically. "Yes, dear" Martha agreed. "Why don't you stay? We'd appreciate the company, and frankly I don't like the idea of you going back to an empty apartment. Unless of course your boyfriend will be waiting for you?"

"Oh" said Kate, feeling disoriented. She honestly hadn't even thought about Josh since their brief conversation the day before. "No, Josh isn't…I don't think Josh will be around much longer.''

"Oh, I'm sorry, darling" said Martha, and Kate _almost _believed her. "But in that case you really must stay, you look exhausted."

"But I'll need to be at the precinct-"

"Of course you will, so I'll set the timer for the coffee and it'll be ready for you in the morning" said Martha, rising. "Alexis, dear, go and find something for Kate to sleep in. Kate, you remember where everything is? I'm sure you'd like a bath…"

The Castle women scurried about, their enthusiasm forcing Kate to acquiesce. Not that she minded terribly. She didn't like the idea of being alone any more than they did. So she took a brief but luxurious bath in the swimming pool sized tub in the guest bathroom and changed into the oversized t-shirt and sweats Alexis had provided. Castle's.

As Alexis left the room, Kate pulled her into a hug. "That's from your dad" she told the girl, releasing her, "and he promised to give you one himself as soon as we find him."

Alexis smiled and nodded. "Thanks Detec- I mean, Kate. And thanks for staying. I know I haven't been exactly supportive lately, you know, about Dad working with you, and I just-"

"There's no need to apologize" Kate interrupted. "If I was in your position and had see what you did I would've done the same." She smiled. "If not worse."

"Thanks" Alexis hugged her again, pulled back shyly, and whispered goodnight as she exited the guest room.

Castle's sweats and t-shirt swallowed Kate whole, but she didn't mind in the least. They smelled like him, and as Kate crawled into the sinfully soft sheets of the familiar guest bed she was oddly comforted. She found having Martha and Alexis nearby soothing, and being enveloped in Castle's scent had a calming effect that was similar to his presence, though less profound. And he was alive, she had heard his voice just hours before. He was well enough to give that psychopath a hard time and to drop subtle hints as to his location…

Kate sat up suddenly. She was so_ slow_! He was well enough to drop hints! Donny Hayes. He had mentioned Donny Hayes, and it was just now dawning on Kate what that meant.

She sprang from the bed, changed back into her clothes as quickly as possible and practically ran downstairs. She took just enough time to scribble a quick note to Martha and Alexis before leaving the loft. Closing the door quietly behind her, Beckett headed straight back to the precinct she had been kicked out of not three hours before.

* * *

><p><em>Note: Antisocial Personality Disorder is real, and Eric Harris really did have it. Not sure if I got the details right, but this was my understanding based on what my psychologist friend explained to me. It's some scary stuff.<em>


	6. Tunnel Vision

_SORRY! I promised last week, I know, I know, I KNOW! And I meant to do it! But with the wedding and the exams and the running around and the stuff, I managed to get sick. Decongestants do not help the writing process, nor does the inability to breathe. But I'm back, now, and I promise to have another chapter up for you soon...like tomorrow at the latest. Mmmmkay? _

_Hope I didn't lose too many of y'all. Thanks for being amazing! _

_Oh, and how 'bout that Rise? Dude..._

* * *

><p>Chapter 6: Tunnel Vision<p>

"Kate! What're you doing here?" Will Sorenson asked, looking up from whatever files he was going over. He looked exhausted, deep circles prominently displayed under his dull-looking eyes.

Kate didn't even want to consider how awful she probably looked, having been at it even longer than Sorenson. Not to mention the emotional strain of it all. But she didn't really care, at least not enough to do anything about it. Kate Beckett had only one focus at that moment.

"Donny Hayes" said Beckett, racing to the large conference-room table Sorenson was occupying.

Will just stared, mouth gaping slightly. "Who?" he finally asked.

"On the phone yesterday -or today, or whenever the hell it was- Castle mentioned Donny Hayes. Hayes was the victim in a case Castle and I worked a while back, he used to own the Old Haunt."

"Castle's bar?" Will asked, still confused. Beckett nodded. "Okay, right" said Will, rifling through some papers. After a moment he paused, looking up. "Wha-um…what does that mean?"

Kate sighed. She wasn't doing a good job of explaining this, but the fact of the matter was that she was used to Castle simply filling in the blanks for her. It was rare that she ever even _had_ to explain anything anymore. She and Castle would just finish each others's statements and figure it out together.

"Donny bought the Old Haunt so that he could find the tunnels his grandfather told him were below. He found this old, secret hidden nook full of Beau James's whiskey, then wound up getting killed and dumped in the river."

"Yeah, it was all over the news when you guys solved that case'' said Sorenson. "Several million worth of fine scotch hidden in an underground tunnel'll get people's attention."

"Right" said Kate, growing impatient, "so Castle saying he felt like Donny Hayes means that he's underground somewhere, probably in an abandoned sewer line."

"It could be in an old subway station, too" said Sorenson wearily. "There's whole stations nobody's been in for years.''

Kate shook her head. "No, then he would've said he felt like Tyler Donegal."

Will gaped. "Who?"

"It's not important" said Kate, waving him off. "The point is, now we know where to look."

Sorenson sighed. "It's a start, Kate, but that's thousands of possibilities. We don't know that Castle's being held in Manhattan. Or even in New York, for that matter. And even if he was… Kate, there's no way we can check everywhere. Not in time."

"Then we'll just have to narrow it down" said Kate.

"How?" Will asked, frustrated. "We don't have anything to _go_ on."

"Well we're gonna have to figure something out!" Beckett snapped, loudly enough that the few remaining officers scattered about the bullpen turned their exhausted heads toward the conference room. She ignored them. "Unless you have a better idea? I'm not about to just sit around and do nothing. Not when _Castle's_ life is at stake."

Sorenson sighed deeply, running his hands over his pale, worn-looking face. "I'm sorry" said Kate softly. "It's just…"

"I _know_, Kate" said Will, his tired eyes full of pain. He gazed longingly at Beckett, a sad smile etched across his marble features, then looked down at his clasped hands. "I knew from the first time I saw you two together that there was more there than you wanted to believe, okay? I wanted you back, and I hoped that we could…" He trailed off with a pained shrug. "But the truth is that you and Castle just have that…" he sighed briefly, "spark. I know how much he means to you. And…I'm gonna do whatever I can to help you get him back, okay?"

Kate bit her lip, at a loss for words. What do you say when your ex-boyfriend, arguably your most serious boyfriend, tells you he knows you're in love with another man? "You're a good guy, Sorenson," she remarked after an awkward moment, "you know that?"

Sorenson shrugged, more lightly this time. "So I've been told." He smiled at Kate, though it didn't reach his eyes, and Kate returned the gesture. "So. What're you thinking?"

Kate sat across from Sorenson, leaning forward onto the cluttered table. "Castle mentioned being chained to a pipe, and Bill would have to be sure that no one would stumble on them by accident, or hear anything. So it has to be somewhere out of the way. Somewhere that people wouldn't see him coming and going."

"Makes sense, but that's still thousands of possibilities."

"He's gotta be in Manhattan" Beckett murmured, more to herself than to Sorenson. "He had to have been able to disappear from that alley…" In a flash of realization, Beckett straightened. "What if the access to wherever Castle's being hidden is in that alley? That would explain why no one heard saw anything."

"But we searched the area" Sorenson insisted. "We didn't find anything."

"I know, but at the time you didn't know what you were looking for. Maybe you missed something."

Sorenson rifled through one of the many stacks of papers on the table, pulling out an FBI subterranean map. Beckett stood and rounded the table, leaning over Sorenson's shoulder. It just seemed _off._ She often worked like this, pouring over maps and files late at night in _this_ room, at _this_ table, standing in precisely _this_ position. But the man who's shoulder she was leaning over didn't smell right, he wasn't tall enough, his hair and eyes were the wrong color, and these distinctions made the whole ordeal seem fundamentally wrong.

"There is an old sewer line running underneath this building" Sorenson said, indicating the large warehouse on the north side of the alley. "It's not part of the modern lines." He looked up at Beckett expectantly. "I'd say it's worth a shot."

"I'll call the boys, have them meet us there" said Beckett, as she and Sorenson gathered their things. She dialed on the way to the elevator, silently praying that her hunch was somehow right.

* * *

><p>"Over here!" Ryan shouted from around the back of the large, looming warehouse. They had been searching the dark alley for nearly half an hour, hampered by the oppressive darkness still covering the city. The buildings on either side of the alley blocked it from most of Manhattan's ambient light, making the one place they needed illumination among the darkest spots on the island.<p>

Beckett's hands were shaking, but she strode purposefully toward Ryan's voice, Esposito and Sorenson following closely as she rounded the corner. Esposito hid his anxiety well, but the stoic veteran's shoulders were tense, his jaw tight, and his brow furrowed ever so slightly over his fatigued brown eyes. "What'd ya find, bro?" he asked his partner.

Ryan waved them over, shining his flashlight into a half-hidden stairwell, which seemingly led directly below the warehouse. It was overgrown with weeds and vines and mostly concealed behind industrial trash cans and rusty barrels.

"Somebody's gone down these stairs recently" Ryan informed them. "See how the weeds are mashed down?"

"You're right" Sorenson spoke up, shining his own light on the disturbed vegetation. "Someone's definitely been through here, I'd say no more than a day ago."

The team exchanged apprehensive glances. "Backup?" Ryan suggested.

Beckett shook her head. "No. If he hears us coming, Castle's as good as dead."

Sorenson nodded in somewhat reluctant agreement. "Weapons out?"

The others drew their sidearms wordlessly and followed Sorenson down the stairs to an ancient wooden door, half-rotted and secured by a rusty lock. On second thought, it _had _been secured by a rusty lock, but the rock had been cut. "That's recent" Esposito remarked, and the others nodded. Ryan jerked the remainder of the lock free, tossing it aside almost violently, and mere seconds later the quartet was striding silently into a dank, damp, pitch-black hallway that smelled strongly of mold and decay. It seemed to be some sort of long-forgotten access tunnel.

After a few yards, they reached a set of three or four stairs, Beckett didn't really notice how many. Another few feet ahead was yet another door, this one heavier but even more worn than its predecessor. Beckett and Ryan stood in position as Sorenson opened the door, and Beckett entering first what was unmistakably the ancient sewer tunnel, the grime-covered brick walls adorned with countless cobwebs.

It was empty, dark, and silent, only the sounds of their strained breathing and the faint drip-drip-drip of water breaking the surrounding stillness. Sorenson gestured silently for the team to head left, and they followed without a word. Kate's chest felt as though it would explode, her heart pounding insistently against her sternum. With every step she expected to hear a gunshot, or Castle crying out in pain or warning, or Bill's taunting voice announcing that they were too late. But they continued forward, beams of light sweeping methodically through the darkness, silence pressing in around them.

Some indeterminable time later, a beam of light swept over one of the many dark nooks, and the glint from a half-concealed object caught Beckett's attention. "Guys" she whispered, the sound almost too loud in the imposing silence. "I think I found something."

"What've ya got?" Esposito asked, following her over.

"Not sure" said Beckett, holstering her gun as she crouched.

She knelt next to an old, rusted pipe, tiny holes bored through the metal in several locations. But it was the smaller metal object just behind the pipe that had attracted Kate's attention. It was decades newer than any of it's surroundings, shiny, silver, obviously expensive, and hauntingly familiar.

"Is that…?" Ryan asked, his tone somewhere between hopeful and disappointed.

Kate lifted the object gingerly, almost reverently. "Yeah" she replied. "It's Castle's watch. He was here."

* * *

><p>An hour later, just as the first rays of light were beginning to illuminate the city, no less than thirty uniforms were scouring the underground tunnels for evidence. The ancient sewers were now illuminated by dozens of industrial, generator-powered spotlights. They had found no sign that Castle or his captor were anywhere nearby, but the lights had revealed a significant amount of blood surrounding the pipe. Beckett's stomach had rolled unpleasantly at the sight, knowing that it was Castle's. How badly was he hurt? How long could he last if he was still bleeding like that?<p>

There were a few more drops of blood in the surrounding tunnel, and the team from the 12th held its collective breath in the hopes that it wasn't all Castles. That perhaps, by some miracle, it belonged to the kidnapper. Lanie was as eager as anyone -other than Beckett, of course- to find their resident writer/detective, and she had vowed to run the tests herself. "I'm faster" she had told Beckett, "and I don't trust anybody else with this."

Beckett and the boys had returned to the 12th, leaving Sorenson to supervise the uniforms and the handful of FBI rookies Sorenson had recruited to help with the canvass. Beckett could hardly believe that it was only seven a.m. when she reached her desk, and she couldn't remember ever being more exhausted. She ran her hands over her face, wanting nothing more than to go home, take a hot bath, and collapse in her bed for several days.

Well, that wasn't quite true. She wanted to collapse in bed, alright, but only if Castle was somewhere nearby. Preferably less than an inch away.

At the insistent buzzing of her phone, Kate hoisted her heavy head from her palms. "Beckett" she answered, praying for good news.

"Detective, this is Gina Cowell" Castle's publisher greeted in a harried tone. "I'm sure you're busy, but I need a minute of your time."

"Of course" Beckett replied.

"I wonder if you might give me a bit of an update on your investigation?"

Beckett sighed in irritation. "I'm sorry, Gina, but I can't discuss an ongoing investi-"

"I'm well aware of that, Detective" Gina snapped. "I'm not asking for details, but Paula and I have taken no less than two hundred calls in the last couple of days from concerned fans, newspapers, tabloids, celebrity rags, you name it, they've called. And the stories are getting wilder by the hour. I just took a call from a woman who wanted to confirm that Richard and his family were killed in some sort of ritualistic murder." Gina sighed. "So I'm sure you can see why I'd like to release a more accurate statement. Richard's fans are concerned, and I'd rather they have accurate information."

"Right" said Beckett, her tone much softer now. She knew that Castle had many fans that would be genuinely concerned about their favorite author. There was a time when she would've felt the same way. Now, though... "Well, obviously Martha and Alexis are perfectly fine, I sta- I mean, I spoke with them last night. As far as Castle goes, we're making progress in the investigation, but haven't found him yet. We do have leads, and we know that he's alive."

"Oh, thank god" Gina breathed, and it suddenly dawned on Kate that Gina and Rick had been _married_. That she probably still loved him, at least a little. "Off the record, Detective, have you spoken to him?"

"I did. Yesterday afternoon. He's hurt, but he's still…Castle."

"You mean he's still being a wise ass?" Gina asked knowingly.

"Always" said Kate, and immediately wished she hadn't. Gina chuckled, unaware of the wave of pain Kate was experiencing. God, how she wanted to hear him say that one word again. And if he repeated three others, that would be fine, too.

"Thank you, Detective Beckett" Gina was saying, pulling Kate back to the present. "I appreciate your time."

"Of course." She paused for a moment, then "And Gina? It's Kate."

"Well, in that case, good luck, Kate." Gina paused. "And I don't just mean with finding him."

The line went dead before Kate could even process what the publisher meant. She was still staring at the phone in her hand when she heard her name being called sharply.

"Detective Beckett" Captain Gates beckoned from the doorway of her office, every bit as stone-faced and put together as always, "a word, please." In spite of the perfunctory "please" tacked on the end, Gates's tone indicated that this was not a request.

Beckett rose and entered the office, closing the door behind her. "Sir, I-"

"Do you recall my telling you that I wanted you to go home last night, Detective?" Gates interrupted, glancing over the top of her reading glasses as she took a seat behind her immaculate desk.

"Yes, sir, but-"

"And yet the desk officer downstairs tells me that you came back in at midnight."

"Yes I did, Captain. Something Castle mentioned when I talked to him finally dawned on me, and I thought it best to follow up right away."

"And your phone was malfunctioning?'' Gates asked, looking at the file in her hands instead of at Beckett.

"No"

"You know how I feel about people disobeying my orders, Detective" Gates said, still looking at the file. "Now, I didn't tell you to head out because I'm a vindictive woman. I told you to do so because you're no good to anyone burned out, and that includes Mr. Castle. You know that as well as I do. But clearly you're too wrapped up in this case to have clear judgement on these matters." She finally looked up, considering. "It's not that I don't admire your tenacity, Beckett, but I'm tempted to take you off this case. You're too emotionally invested."

"No, Captain, I'm _focused_" Beckett insisted sharply. She swallowed hard, reining in her emotions, and when she spoke again her tone was calmer, more professional. "As you know, we're very much on the clock with this case. I thought it best to follow Castle's lead as soon as possible, and given the evidence we found I'd say it was a good call."

"And would you not have been quicker to catch on to Mr. Castle's little clue had you not been so exhausted and so worried about your…" Gates narrowed her eyes in what could almost be considered a smirk, "_friend_?"

Beckett sighed. "Probably, Captain, but if I wasn't on this case no one would've caught the clue at all." She hesitated, then spoke again. "With all due respect, sir, if you take me off this case I'm just going to continue investigating on my own. Castle's too important for me to just sit by and do nothing. But…" She sighed. "I'd certainly appreciate continuing to have the support and resources the 12th can provide."

Gates raised her eyebrows, leaned back in her cushy chair, and trained her eyes on the file once more. "Fine. But cross me again, Beckett, and you'll be writing traffic citations until you're old and gray."

"Understood, sir."

Ryan met her halfway back to her desk. "Everything okay?" he asked, glancing in the direction of the Captain's lair.

Beckett nodded. "She's pissed that I came back last night, but she's letting me stay on the case."

"Good," said Ryan, "because Lanie just faxed the results over." Ryan handed her the file but kept talking, for which Beckett was grateful. The words on the page didn't seem to want to sit still before her fatigued eyes. "Most of the blood is Castle's, like we expected, but a few drops belonged to a William Wharton: forty six years old, six foot, works as an editor at _Us Weekly_. He was in the system."

"For what?" Beckett asked. She practically ran to the murder board, DMV photo of William Wharton in her hand and Ryan on her heels.

Ryan shook his head. "Sealed juvie record, and no arrests as an adult. Esposito put the APB out, he's updating Sorenson now."

Beckett held the DMV photo next to the sketch Matthew Cooper had provided, seemingly years ago. There was no question. "This is him" Beckett muttered. "He's got Castle.''


	7. Prisoner

_Sorry! It's 2 days later than I promised...I'm playing powderpuff football and that has cut into my writing time, especially since I managed to strain my quad and now have to spend extra time stretching, icing, soaking, etc. But the game is today, so..._

_And THEN last night I had this all ready to publish, I edited it, hit "save" and my internet connection dropped. So I lost my edits. Ah, technology. _

_Anyway, I just wanted to thank y'all for your amazing reviews. I don't reply to all of them, even though I'd like to, but that doesn't mean that I don't read and absorb and feel all kinds of warm and fuzzy. Thanks SO MUCH for your feedback!_

_Now. On with it._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Prisoner<strong>

"This is our guy" Beckett said as she addressed her weary troops for the second time in as many days. "William Arthur Wharton, forty six years old, light brown hair, brown eyes, six feet tall, born and raised here in Manhattan. Wharton has no family, his parents died in a house fire at the family beach house in South Carolina. We now believe that Wharton may have been responsible for this fire. Wharton works at _Us Weekly_, where they describe him as charming and friendly, but a loner. He doesn't really have any friends.

"According to the FBI profile Wharton has Antisocial Personality Disorder, a very dangerous psychological condition. He is highly intelligent, charismatic, methodical, and a gifted liar. We don't know why he targeted Castle and Hobson, and there doesn't seem to be any connection between them."

Beckett paused, surveying the officers before her. The mental and physical exhaustion, courtesy of the last few harrowing days, was written all over each face, but so was determination, focus and confidence. It didn't matter that Castle wasn't technically a cop. He was one of their own and they would move heaven and earth to find him.

Swelling with pride and a flicker of hope, Beckett continued. "So here's the plan. Wharton lives in Tribecca." She indicated the block on the map behind her. "We're gonna hit the place, search it top to bottom, and then we're gonna sit on it. Wharton's not likely to be there, but maybe he'll come back at some point. And if he does we'll be ready for him. Remember that this guy is smart and dangerous. Don't underestimate him.'' Beckett paused, looked around, then sighed. "Let's put this crap behind us, people."

* * *

><p>William Wharton's Tribecca apartment was empty, as they had all known it would be. Uniforms scoured the building to question tenants on other floors while Karpowski's team interviewed Wharton's neighbors. Kate's team, plus Sorenson, took the role of searching the apartment.<p>

It could have been a nice place. It was large and roomy but sparsely furnished and dimly lit. Somehow it reminded Beckett of the inside of a tomb; it had the same dark, cold, empty feel. It certainly wasn't the type of place that saw many visitors. The walls were white and empty, the cabinets all but bare, the bookshelves packed with literature that could only be described as "dark," works that made Beckett's skin crawl just from reading the titles. The only exceptions to that rule were prominently displayed near the top of the bookshelf, where the majority of Richard Castle's works stood out like red on St Patrick's Day to Beckett's familiar eyes.

Kate strode over, gingerly removing the volumes one by one from the shelf. Wharton had annotated them extensively.

"Hey guys, look at this" Beckett called over her shoulder.

Ryan, Esposito and Sorenson were at her back in an instant. "What's up?'' Agent Sorenson asked.

Beckett showed them the book she was holding, _Storm Warning._ One of her favorites.

"Looks like he's a fan of Castle's stuff" Esposito remarked, his voice laced with disdain.

Sorenson shrugged. "It could be criticism for all I can tell. I can't even read this guy's handwriting, are we sure he's not a doctor?"

"There's a scary thought" Ryan muttered.

"I'll send these over to Morgan" Sorenson offered, leafing quickly through _Storm Season_. "Maybe he can make some sense of it. In the meantime, why don't you guys head over to Riker's and see if Marcus Gates has any light to shed on the situation. My guys'll lay low outside, grab Wharton if he comes home."

"On it" said Esposito, though Beckett barely heard him. She was staring at the last page of _Storm Fall_, beneath Castle's beautiful, sad, haunting prose that moved her to tears every time she read it, at the words that Wharton had scrawled in the empty half page at the bottom. Written in bold red Sharpie were the only legible words she had come across, red painted on pure white so violently it reminded Beckett of blood on freshly fallen snow.

_"WONDER HOW RICHARD CASTLE'S FANS WOULD REACT IF I PUT THE BULLET THROUGH **HIS** HEAD?"_

* * *

><p>"William Wharton?" Martha repeated, her voice shaking slightly, "I'm sorry, Kate, but I don't recognize the name. Perhaps the other victim's family knows something? Or maybe Gina or Paula?"<p>

Kate sighed, her sense of desperation growing. She had already spoken to both Gina and Paula, of course, and though the name was somewhat familiar to both women they had no particular association with him. Gary Hobson's loved ones, whom Ryan and Esposito had questioned, didn't know the man either.

"Okay, Martha, thank you" said Kate. She and her team were approaching the front entrance of the Ad Seg portion of Riker's prison, the tall barbed-wire fences and looming watchtowers gleaming ominously in the morning sunlight. "I'll talk to you soon."

Kate hung up, already having updated Martha on the case. Alexis was still in bed. She had woken, panicked, at about four a.m., and Martha had given the girl one of her Xanax. "I know it's not strictly ethical" Martha had admitted somewhat desperately, without a trace of the diva's typical vibrance, "nor particularly safe, but I just didn't know what else to do."

APBs were out and uniforms were repeating canvass of the warehouse neighborhood. They were all hoping that though no one had seen Wharton or Castle enter the alleyway, someone might have seen them leave. So far, nothing. Wharton's neighbors hadn't shed any light either, each repeating the same mantra: he was polite but kept to himself, and he had been gone for the past several days. Wharton was off the grid.

So the way Beckett figured, Marcus Gates was pretty much their only shot.

She and the boys passed through seemingly dozens of fences, gates, reinforced doors and guarded entryways, making their way into one of the small meeting rooms where Marcus Gates sat waiting.

Prison had not been kind to Gates this time around. He had been placed in Administrative Segregation instead of with the general population he so loved to manipulate, putting an end to his shot-caller days. Gates had aged since his arrest, lost the beard and mutton chops and cropped his hair closer to his scalp. He was balder, grayer, and more lined, but no less cruel. The orange jumpsuit reflected in his cold, clear gray eyes and gave them an eery yellow look.

"Ooooo, back for more, are we?'' he remarked, leering hungrily Beckett as she entered. Ryan and Esposito tailed her closely. "You just can't get enough. Though I have to say, you're not quite as put together as you were the last time I saw you. Shame."

"You're not as put together either, Marcus" Beckett shot back. "Orange really isn't your color."

Gates smiled cruelly. "So tell me" he said casually, leaning back in his chair as far as the manacles would allow, "are you here about Jerry Tyson, or about your writer friend's disappearance?"

"What do you know about that, Gates?" Esposito spat.

"Prison's an information gold mine'' said Gates. "These guards gossip like a bunch of teenage girls. I heard one of them saying that some kidnapper is demanding my release in exchange for Mr. Castle's. So you must be here to escort me to the door."

"Not a chance, Gates" Beckett growled. "You're staying put. But we might be able to make your stay here a little more comfortable in exchange for your cooperation."

Gates narrowed his eyes very slightly. "How much more comfortable?"

"That depends on your cooperation" said Beckett, unwilling to be sidetracked. She extricated Wharton's DMV photo from her leather notebook and slapped it onto the table before Gates. "You know this guy?"

Gates leaned forward thoughtfully, gazing at the picture, then leaned back again. "Never seen him before" he said simply.

"I think his memory's going, bro" said Esposito to Ryan.

Ryan nodded. "Mmm hmm, or maybe his eyesight."

"Could be" said Esposito, pointing a finger at his partner in acknowledgement.

Gates just stared silently at the pair, an expression of mild amusement on his cruel features. "I don't know him" he repeated, shrugging.

"Here's the thing, Marcus" said Beckett, pulling a second picture from inside her folder and sliding it across the table. Gates leaned forward again, his expression darkening as he looked over the image. "You" Beckett pointed to a much younger Marcus Gates at the top right of the photo, "and William Wharton" she pointed to Wharton's youthful face, "were in the same juvie hall, at the same time. In fact, you played football together almost every afternoon for three whole years."

Gates leaned away from the image of himself and ten other boys, Wharton included, posing in football attire on the field of Garfield, New Jersey's Juvenile Detention Facility. His face was expressionless, but he met Beckett's eyes, waiting.

"Try again, Gates'' said Esposito, drawing the convict''s attention. "Tell us what you know about William Wharton."

Gates sighed dramatically. "I really don't see what's in that for me."

"Oh come on, Marcus" said Beckett, moving around the table to stand closer to the prisoner, yet still out of reach, "you _wanted_ to come back to prison. That's why you took the fall for Tyson. That's why you confessed to being the Triple Killer when you were just a copy cat. You're _powerful_ here, Marcus…or you would be, if you weren't in Ad Seg. Tell us what we want to know, and we'll get you some time in the yard. You can start building back that rep of yours."

It made Kate sick to feed this sociopath's ego, but it was the only way she'd every get anything out of him. She watched his jaw clench, saw his eyes dart across the room to the solitary window near the ceiling, and knew his decision before he ever spoke.

"I've only seen Billy the Kid once since I got out of juvie" said Gates, "and that was fifteen years ago. He was the warden's success story. Got out, got _clean_, went to college on scholarship, got a job working for a big-time magazine…but it was all a load of crap."

"How's that?" Esposito asked.

Gates smiled, though it did nothing to brighten his features or lessen his air of cruelty. "Billy didn't change. He just figured out that acting the way they wanted you to was a better way to get out and stay out. Nobody expects the nice guy to cause any trouble. Billy could just do his thing, and nobody ever looked at him twice.''

"What happened fifteen years ago?" Ryan asked.

"Billy needed my help getting rid of some trash he picked up. I gave him a hand, and that was it."

"You helped him dispose of a body?" Beckett asked, her tone infinitely calmer than she was feeling.

Gates turned his head ever so slowly in her direction, meeting her eyes with a slight smirk and a raised eyebrow. "Did I say that?"

"This _trash_" Esposito began, "where was it?"

"In a storage unit in Queens" said Gates. "But don't bother looking for it. He uses a different name every time, and he got rid of that unit long ago. Couldn't even tell you where your writer friend might be."

"What about favorite hang-outs, Gates?" Ryan pressed. "Does Wharton have any of those?''

"I want at least three hours a day in the yard" Gates told Beckett.

"Fine" said Beckett, ignoring Ryan and Esposito's sounds of protest. "Answer the question."

"McArthur's Pub, in Chinatown. Billy the Kid's there almost every afternoon."

* * *

><p>The owner of McArthur's Pub, a greasy-haired weasel of a man, agreed without hesitation to call them -discreetly- if Wharton showed up. But Beckett didn't trust Kevin Hughes any further than she could throw him. Sohe stationed an undercover cop in the alley as extra insurance. Dressed convincingly as a homeless woman, Officer Taylor all but blended into the trash piled around the alley next to McArthur's. She would be easy to miss should William "Billy the Kid" Wharton come in for his afternoon drink.<p>

But by two o'clock that afternoon, Beckett hadn't heard a thing. Not from Taylor, not from the feebies stationed outside Wharton's apartment, not from Derek Morgan at the FBI and not from the uniforms on canvass.

"The problem is" Beckett said to Ryan, Esposito and Sorenson as they slumped around the conference room table, "even if Wharton shows up at one of these places we can't arrest him."

"I'm sorry, what?" Sorenson stammered in disbelief.

"She's right" Esposito agreed. "This guy's not gonna talk. We arrest him, there's no way we'll ever find Castle."

"Even if we try to cut a deal he'll just lie to us" said Beckett. "He wants to make us suffer, that's the whole reason behind this game he's playing. We're gonna have to follow him.''

Sorenson opened his mouth to protest, but the shrill ringing of Beckett's phone interrupted. "Speak of the devil" Ryan remarked.

"You remember the plan?" Sorenson asked, and Beckett shot him a look. He raised his hands in a gesture of innocence.

"Beckett."

"Detective Beckett, I hope I'm not calling at a bad time" said Wharton in his now familiar cold-yet-cordial tone.

"Not at all, Bill. What can we do for you?" Beckett played by Will's rules, no matter how much she wanted to scream at this guy, to tell him she was coming after him, that she'd kill him with her bare hands if he laid another hand on her friend. Her partner. Her…Castle.

"I was calling regarding your progress with regard to Marcus Gates, of course" said Bill. His tone was friendly enough, but the more Beckett spoke with him the more she heard the menacing undercurrent, the chill that ran deep beneath the words. Or perhaps her overtired mind was merely projecting the knowledge of what he was capable of. Gates's voice brought her back to the present. "I just want to make sure you're on track, the deadline is approaching."

"I spoke with your friend this morning, actually" said Beckett, her voice surprisingly even. "We made arrangements to get him on the outside."

Ryan and Esposito smirked at her choice of words, but the humor fell far short of their eyes.

"Well, I must say I'm surprised to hear that, Detective" said Bill, his voice utterly devoid of emotion. "You must be more desperate to get your writer back than I thought."

"Speaking of which," said Beckett, "I'm gonna need to talk to Castle before we discuss turning Gates loose."

"Of course, Detective" said Wharton, cordial again. "Hold for a moment, if you will?"

The silence on the other end of the line seemed to stretch on for ages, Kate's anxiety increasing with every passing moment. Why was it taking so long? Was Castle sedated? Unconscious? Dead? No, no he couldn't be. Wharton wouldn't kill Castle until after the deadline was up…

Would he?

Finally, muffled sounds drifted through the line and into the conference room, unidentifiable first. But when an almost inaudible, nearly unrecognizable voice murmured "Kate," they realized that the sounds were of Castle's breathing. And Beckett thought he sounded bad before. Castle's respirations were rapid, impossibly shallow and strained, as if Castle was breathing through a straw and trying not to move his chest. It was painful just to listen to, and Kate's heart broke with his every exhalation. "How's it…how's it going?" He sounded groggy, disoriented.

"I should be asking you that question" said Beckett, fighting back tears.

"To be honest" Castle croaked, "I could use a drink. Liste-" Castle's words were interrupted by a violent, obviously painful coughing fit, then nothing but Rick's pained respirations. A moment later, with a heartbreaking sound that was almost a whimper, he spoke again. "Listen, tell Mother and Alexis I love them, okay?"

"Don't talk like that, Rick" Kate choked. "You're gonna be fine."

Castle screamed, and the sounds of Wharton's maniacal laugh filled the conference room, sending shards of ice through Kate's veins. And judging from the looks on the faces of the men in the room, they felt a similar chill. Castle stopped screaming, choked. "I lo-"

"You are going to be at the Central Park Carousel at five thirty this evening" Wharton interrupted in his most menacing tone. "Have Marcus Gates with you."

Kate bit back the string of expletives begging to escape her lips as she heard Castle yell again, more weakly this time. "What happens then, Bill?"

'"Well, then you get to see your writer friend" said Wharton. "Five thirty at the carousel, Detective Beckett. Don't be late." And then he hung up.

"He's not gonna show" said Beckett around the inhibitory lump growing in her throat. "He's gonna kill Castle before five thirty."

Ryan looked stricken. "We've gotta find him. Now."

Kate ran her her hand through her hair, pacing. She felt sick. Her heart was pounding, her breathing shallow, though not nearly as shallow as Rick's. He was dying. And if they didn't find him soon -very soon- William Wharton was going to put a bullet in his brain.

Her phone rang, and she answered without looking at the caller ID. "Beckett." She sounded nothing like herself.

"Beckett, it's Taylor" said the Officer, rushed. "I don't know how he got inside, but Wharton just left the bar."

"He left?" Beckett repeated. If Wharton was just leaving the bar, that meant that Castle was being held in McArthur's. He'd been right there, maybe no more than feet away, when they had questioned Hughes.

''Yeah" Taylor insisted, "walked right out the front door, headed west on Bayard. I've been watching the whole time, Detective, and I swear I never saw him go in."

"You're sure it was him?"

"Positive" Taylor confirmed. "Do you want me to pursue?"

Beckett hesitated. Wharton was dangerous, and if he made Taylor he would kill her without a second thought. But she couldn't let him get away... "Yes" she replied. "But keep your distance, Taylor. Do not engage. We'll get you backup ASAP."

"Roger that" said Officer Taylor, then ended the call.

Beckett felt paralyzed with fear. Wharton had left the bar. Left Castle. Why would he have done that? Unless…

Unless Castle was already dead.

* * *

><p><em>Please don't kill me! I'll update again soon. :)<em>


	8. Lost

_Y'all are amazing. Seriously. I love you. The response to this story has been overwhelming, and I REALLY hope the next chapters don't disappoint. Though if they do, please feel free to let me know. I've gotta admit, I'm not quite as happy with this one. The NEXT one, though... _

_Thanks, Andrew Marlowe and Co, for letting me tortu-I mean, write about your characters. You da man._

_And now, without further ado..._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 8: Lost<strong>

As much as Beckett wanted to be the one to bring William Wharton down, she was nothing short of desperate to get to Castle. So she let Sorenson, his FBI recruits and several uniforms from the 12th rendezvous with Taylor while Beckett and the boys snagged Karpowski's team and headed back to McArthur's Pub.

Kate had never been so terrified in her life. There was no exception. When her mother had been killed she had been utterly crushed, and more than a little afraid for the future. When her father was drowning in the bottle she had feared for his life. When her apartment had been blown up, when she had been shot, when Montgomery had died, she had most certainly been scared. But only one experience came anywhere near comparison to the agonizing, crippling horror she was currently experiencing: when Jerry Tyson, the Triple Killer, had held Castle at gunpoint. But this time…

This time was worse. Wharton was just as dangerous as Tyson. Not only that, but Wharton had _targeted_ Castle, whereas Tyson had just been toying with him, punishing him for ruining his escape plan. Wharton wanted Castle dead, for reasons Kate would never understand. They had gotten lucky with Tyson, but what were the chances that Rick was alive this time?

The trip to the pub took only minutes, but to Kate it felt like the longest ride of her life. Esposito drove -Beckett couldn't even fathom the idea of maneuvering the streets of Manhattan at the moment- flying down the crowded streets at breakneck speed, weaving around cars, mounting sidewalks, racing through intersections with the siren blaring. But inside the vehicle it was deathly silent, tension and fear rolling off each of the three detectives in waves that crashed together with desperation.

Beckett and the boys didn't wait for Karpowski's team. They burst through the doors of the dark and dusty bar, weapons drawn, mere seconds after Javier had put the squad car in park. Kevin Hughes, the weasel-faced pub owner, tried to make a break for it, but Esposito took him down with ease. Beckett hardly noticed the exchange. Catching sight of a door at the back of the pub, Kate holstered her weapon and rushed through it, ignoring Ryan's insistent shouts of "Beckett! Wait!"

The door opened into a small hallway, four doors packed into the dim, dirty, minuscule space. Two of the doors led to the bathrooms, one to the kitchen. Kate took the fourth without knowing what it would lead to.

It led to stairs. Up or down? Wharton liked darkness, he liked tunnels.

Down.

She rolled her ankle halfway down the stairs, the sharp pain shooting up her leg almost to the knee. She winced, stumbling slightly, but otherwise ignored it as she continued downward at top speed.

She also ignored the vague shouts drifting down from above as she made it to the bottom of the stairwell, to yet another door. The shouting drew nearer, now accompanied by footsteps overhead. Ryan and Esposito, probably. Beckett put her ear to the door in front of her.

Silence. She tested the door handle.

Locked. Of course.

Kate took a step back, gripped her weapon and flashlight tightly, and kicked down the door with a force that sent splinters of wood flying in all directions.

The beam of her flashlight swept rapidly across the room. It was some sort of small storage space, empty but for a few stacks of boxes and an ancient pool table over to the right.

And the limp, motionless body on the floor next to it.

A body Kate would know in any setting.

"Castle!" Beckett shouted, rushing over.

The writer was laying on his right side, his hands and feet bound so tightly with zip ties that the skin beneath was raw and bleeding. Beckett's flashlight illuminated the blood that was soaking the left side of Castle's shirt, the stain extending from his shoulder to his hip. She knelt slowly, afraid to touch him. Afraid that he would be cold, rigid, lifeless.

"Castle?" she called again, receiving no response. Tears welled up in her eyes, clouding her vision, streaming down her cheeks as she blinked them away. "Rick?" Kate grasped his solid shoulder -still warm, thank God- and rolled him onto his back as gently as possible. He was _heavy_, firm beneath her hands, obviously much more muscular than Kate had realized.

His face was swollen and bloodied, the sight made all the more gruesome by the dim light filtering in through the door and drifting over from the flashlight, which was lying abandoned somewhere on the floor. One of Castle's sleeves was bloodied, the arm within angled in the wrong direction. Feeling nauseous, Kate reached for Rick's neck, screwing her eyes shut as she pressed her middle and forefingers firmly into the indentation between the prominent muscles. She held her breath.

Seconds later, Kate slumped forward onto Castle's abdomen, releasing the breath as she relished the steady thrum of pulse beneath her fingers. It was fast, thready, weaker than it should've been, but it was there.

He was alive.

The lights were on when she reopened her eyes, and she heard Ryan's frantic voice calling for an ambulance. "Rick" she murmured, running her hands gingerly over his bloodied face. "Come on, Rick. Talk to me."

"If I didn't know any better, Detective," Castle murmured weakly, his eyes still closed, "I'd say you were worried about me."

Slowly his eyes flickered open, their astounding blue standing out even more strikingly against the purple-black and red that covered most of the rest of his face. "Oh god, Rick" Kate breathed, her hand on his bloody cheek. "Are you okay?"

"Mmmm…I could get used to waking up to… uh, to this view.'' His voice trailed off, his eyes closing again.

"Castle!" Beckett shouted, frantic. "Rick!'' No answer. She turned, finding the concerned faces of Ryan and Esposito just feet behind her. "Where the hell is that ambulance?"

* * *

><p>Kate was finally forced to release her viselike grip on Castle's hand when the paramedics wheeled the author through the doors of NYU Medical Center's ambulance bay. The medics were joined by a couple of eager doctors -or maybe nurses, Kate couldn't tell- who rushed Castle down the hall, clearly concerned. A heartbeat later they were out of view, leaving Beckett standing alone in the hallway of the ER.<p>

She wanted to follow, but her legs didn't seem to be working. She needed air. She needed to sit down. She needed to find Rick so that she could hold his had while they did…whatever it was that they were doing. Kate felt disoriented, dazed. She knew that she should move, but she didn't know where to go. All she knew was that they had taken Rick away, and every cell in her body was screaming in protest.

What if he didn't make it? What if she never got the chance to tell him…?

No. Rick's heart was still beating, she had felt it against her fingertips just before they pulled him away. Kate was fairly sure they had been saying something about his condition, but she couldn't remember what. She hadn't been paying attention to anything other than Rick, the shallow rise and fall of his chest, the faint, steady beating against her palm.

"Detective Beckett?" said a familiar southern drawl from somewhere over Kate's shoulder.

Kate turned, staring into a set of large, doe-like brown eyes. "Molly!" she said, astonished at the shakiness of her own voice.

Molly Black was a nurse, and a damn good one. She had been Kate's favorite caretaker at Mt Sinai Hospital's ICU during her two week recovery from the gun shot wound. A few years younger than Kate, Molly was sweet, friendly, and genuine. She had managed to take care of Kate's many needs without hovering or fussing or being overbearing. Molly had gone above and beyond, often coming in to keep Kate company, just spending a few minutes during the less busy shifts chatting about nothing in particular.

Molly grinned, leaning in for a quick hug. Kate wasn't normally so affectionate, but Molly's natural effervescence made it impossible to deny the nurse anything.

"What're you doing here?" Kate asked.

"I work here now" Molly replied, grinning. "Got tired of the ICU, most of my patients weren't as easy to get along with as you were." Molly suddenly sobered as she took in Kate's obviously worn appearance. "What're _you_ doin' here?"

Kate deflated even further as the momentary distraction vaporized. "My, uh...my partner just got brought in.''

"Mr. Castle?" Molly asked, concern evident in her attractive features.

"You know Castle?"

Molly smiled sheepishly. "He came by a couple times while you were at Mt. Sinai. He said you didn't wanna see him, but he needed to make sure that you were doin' okay. I _promise _I didn't give him any details," the nurse insisted, "just, you know, let him know you were still breathin' on your own."

Kate was shocked. After all she had put him through that summer, Castle had not only continued working on her case but he had also made regular visits to the hospital just to check up on her. _Dear God, why did I do that to him_?

"I didn't know that" Kate remarked after a beat. "But…yeah, they just took him back."

"I heard about the kidnapping on the news. So y'all found him?"

"Yeah, but he's hurt pretty badly. I don't know what…"

Molly grasped Kate's arm gently. "Come on" she said, leading the detective off down the hallway and into a bathroom. "You've got blood all over you. Wash up, and then I'll take ya to the waitin' room and see what I can find out about Mr. Castle.''

Molly returned after a moment, having snagged a pair of OR scrubs for Kate to change into, along with a bottle of water and a plastic bag for her clothes. Kate was grateful for the opportunity to change, as she had been wearing her current outfit for the past two days. She hadn't noticed before, but the knees, sleeves, and front of her wrinkled garments were stained with blood. _Rick's..._

Alone in the bathroom, Kate looked into the mirror for the first time in what seemed like weeks. She looked awful. In fact, she was fairly certain she had looked better after the shooting. Kate was pale, her hair greasy, and she had blood smeared across her face. Castle's blood. Dark, bruise-like circles marred the skin beneath her dull-looking eyes. Washing her face removed the blood smudges, but otherwise did little to improve her appearance. And honestly, she didn't even care.

Kate met Molly as soon as she stepped back into the hallway. "He's in surgery" the nurse informed her, "but I can't tell you anything else right now. Mr. Castle's family and a couple of detectives are in the OR waiting room, if you wanna…"

"Yeah, yeah I'll go wait with them." Molly nodded, smiling sympathetically, and led Kate down the hallway. "Listen, Molly…thanks."

The younger woman just smiled. "No problem, Kate. You know you were one of my favorite patients…especially my GSW patients." Molly grinned playfully, and Kate couldn't help the small smile that crept onto her lips. "And I always liked Castle."

"Oh?" said Beckett, clinging to the distraction, trying to avoid the agonizing fear that was attempting to paralyze her. "Why's that?"

"He's…sweet" said Molly thoughtfully, pressing the "up" button at the elevators. "And hot, obviously. He has this sorta bad boy thing goin' on, but you can tell that deep down he's a sweetheart. I like that in a guy." The elevator doors opened, and the two women stepped in. "Plus, it's obvious he's crazy about you" said the nurse conspiratorially.

Beckett bit her lip, looking down at her shoes. She couldn't see most of them as they were all but buried within the borrowed scrubs. The elevator dinged its arrival on the fourth floor, the doors sliding open to reveal the sterile OR waiting room. "I saw your…_people_ right around the corner there." She pointed Kate in the right direction, and waited for Kate's nod of understanding. Molly placed a comforting hand on Kate's shoulder, saying softly "It's gonna be okay, Kate."

Beckett thanked Molly again, and the nurse smiled and waved cheerfully as the elevator doors slid shut. Ryan, Esposito, Martha and Alexis were indeed waiting around the corner, the two redheads huddled together on the edges of their seats. Ryan was pacing aimlessly around the room while Esposito spoke urgently into his cell phone.

Alexis was the first to notice Kate's entrance. "Detective Beckett!" she cried, rising from her seat and rushing to Kate's side. "How's Dad?"

Martha was now on her feet. Ryan had stopped pacing and was staring open-mouthed at his boss. "I don't really know, Alexis" Kate answered honestly, her voice wavering. "They took him back to surgery pretty much as soon as we got here. That's all I know."

"But he was okay, right?" Alexis asked, her voice fairly calm in comparison to the sheer panic in her eyes. "Detective Ryan said he was talking when you found him?"

Kate nodded. "Yeah. He, um, woke up and everything. But…" Kate didn't want to cause the girl more worry, but she couldn't lie. "He's hurt pretty badly, Alexis."

Alexis nodded sadly, returning to her grandmother's side. "Thanks for…you know, being honest" said Alexis, before burrowing into Martha's arms once again.

"Yo girl, you alright?" Esposito asked, placing a brotherly hand on Kate's arm.

"Yeah, Javi, I'm okay. I just…."

"Yeah, I know. Me too" said Javier solemnly. "Listen, a couple things-"

"Wharton" Beckett interrupted. "Did they get Wharton?"

"Yeah. Yeah they did" Esposito confirmed, and the rest of the quorum breathed a collective sigh of belief. "I just got off the horn with Sorenson, said the two teams cornered him as he was trying to leave his apartment. He had a gun, tried to use it, but they took him down."

"Dead?" asked Ryan.

Esposito shook his head. "No, Sorenson got him in the shoulder. He's on his way. LT, Taylor and a couple other unies are keeping him company."

"He's coming here?" Beckett asked, not sure whether she was relieved that she'd be able to keep a close eye on Wharton or disgusted that he'd be so near.

"Yeah" Esposito replied. "It's the closest hospital with a secure ward. Sorenson's following the bus. Also, Lanie's on her way. Said to tell you to turn your damn phone on, she's called you like fifty times." Javier smiled, as he always did when speaking of his girlfriend.

Beckett nodded. "Okay." She pulled the phone from the pocket of her borrowed scrubs with a trembling hand.

"One more thing" Esposito interrupted, placing a gentle hand over Kate's. "Gates called, and she's not too happy."

"I can't deal with her right now, Javier" said Beckett, a desperate edge to her voice. "She can fire me if she wants, but I'm not leaving until-"

"She _said_" said Esposito, holding up his hand to stop Kate's frantic tirade, "that she's not happy you didn't keep her updated on the investigation and aren't answering your phone, but said she'll deal with it when you come back. She wants you to take at least three days off."

Kate exhaled, slumping bonelessly into the chair behind her and burying her face in her hands.

"He's gonna be okay, Beckett" said Ryan, taking a seat next to her and nudging her with his shoulder.

Beckett nodded wordlessly, forcing a weak smile before hiding her face in her palms once again. They smelled like hospital soap.

Kate wanted to believe that Castle would be fine, but he had been so weak, so broken. He had been losing blood for _days_. He was hardly able to breathe, and he was unable to remain conscious.

No. He would be okay. He had to be.

But Kate knew that she wouldn't fully believe it until she saw Castle's playful smirk, complete with twinkling blue eyes, for herself.

* * *

><p>They sat in tense silence for what seemed like ages, but was probably no more than a few minutes. Lanie and Will arrived at the same time, Sorenson striding over stoically while Lanie practically ran to her best friend's side.<p>

"Honey, are you okay?" the ME asked, kneeling in front of Kate.

"Yeah, Lanie. I'm fine." In truth, her ankle was throbbing painfully, the analgesic effects of adrenaline having worn off to reveal the injury Kate hadn't even remembered until that moment. But mostly she was just an emotional wreck.

Kate Beckett wouldn't break down, though, not here. Not now. Not in front of Castle's mother and daughter.

"Liar" said Lanie, squeezing the detective's hand.

Kate finally looked up and met Lanie's eyes, returning her hesitant smile with an acknowledging nod. "I just…"

"I know, honey."

Beckett sat up straighter, meeting Agent Sorenson's concerned, longing eyes. "Wharton?" she asked.

"Tried to shoot one of my guys" Sorenson said darkly, "so I put one in his shoulder. He's in the OR, and I've got armed guards outside. Just in case."

"Thanks, Will" said Beckett.

"Sure thing" Sorenson replied, taking a seat.

* * *

><p>LT and Tully arrived a few minutes later, coffees in hand, and joined the waiting party. Kate took the occasional sip, but mostly just stared absently at paper cup. It wasn't as good as Castle's coffee. There was something <em>off<em> about the flavor, though Kate couldn't put a finger on exactly what it was. She wondered whether it was just the fact that it wasn't from Castle. She wondered whether she was so acutely aware of Castle's presence that she could literally taste it when he wasn't around. Then again, maybe it was just crappy coffee.

There was one fact that kept nagging relentlessly at the back of Kate's mind: William Wharton was in the OR, in that very hospital. In the same part of the hospital as Castle. Maybe just next door, or right across the hall.

The thought disgusted her. Wharton didn't deserve to be anywhere near Castle. Wharton didn't deserve to breathe the same air as Castle, if he deserved to breathe air at all. _Maybe he'll die on the table_, Kate thought, then felt mildly ashamed of herself. She had arrested some repulsive excuses for human beings in her time as a cop, she had even shot suspects before. But this was the first time that she had ever truly wished for another person's death.

She did now, though. Kate wanted William Wharton to fry.


	9. Found

_Y'all continue to be amazing. Seriously. Please let me know what you think of this chapter. I'm pretty proud of it, but I'd love to hear your thoughts. It could easily be crap._

_Also, brief rant about the 4th season so far: (skip this if you haven't seen it or just don't care...) I'm not happy. Maybe we're not supposed to be, and if that's the case they're doing a great job. It seems that the show as a whole has a darker feel, and it's not as funny (it has its moments) and lighthearted as it was before. I'm hoping that this is being done on purpose, in light of all that's happened/happening, because if that's the case it'll get back to normal eventually. Sigh...I don't know. I want happy Castle back. I'm curious whether anyone else feels this way too?_

_Ok. I'm done!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 9: Found<strong>

"Family of Richard Castle?"

No less than thirty people jumped to their feet, making the slightly nervous-looking doctor step back a bit and blink in a confused sort of way. He was young, Kate thought, probably just out of medical school. But the green OR scrubs and scrub cap suggested that he was a surgeon. Surely he hadn't operated on Castle? What if he made a mistake?

"Um…" said Doogie Howser, glancing around at the anxious group of cops, two distraught redheads and one obviously demanding ME. "You're _all_ Mr. Castle's family?"

"That's right" said Martha sternly. Thirty pairs of eyes shot in Martha's direction, but the actress's jaw was set and she was staring at the doctor in a way that made the statement fact. "How's my son?"

The surgeon looked questioningly around the room, then shrugged. "I'm Dr. Karev, I assisted on Mr. Castle's operation. He made it through surgery, but we're keeping him sedated for now."

"W-why?" Alexis asked. She was gripping Martha's hand with so much force that her knuckles were white, while Martha's fingers had taken on a slightly purple tint.

"Mr. Castle's body has a great deal of damage" said Dr. Karev. "He had eight broken ribs, one of which caused a pneumothorax, and his chest sustained so much trauma that he was bleeding into his chest cavity. He was acidotic due to the poor ventilation and muscle breakdown. Both of his arms are broken, but the left was most severe: a compound fracture of the ulna which was aggravated by repeated trauma. He also has a bruised kidney and a slight laceration of the liver, which we repaired. Mr. Castle also lost a significant amount of blood, mostly from the liver laceration and the stab wound to his left scapular region.

"An orthopedic surgeon operated to set the breaks, we re-inflated the lung and repaired what damage we could. But because of the acidosis and the lung injuries, we've put Mr. Castle on a ventilator. This will ensure that he has adequate gas exchange and time to recover. We'll probably keep him on vent for forty-eight hours or so, and he'll have to remain sedated until then. The major risk now is a systemic infection due to the unsanitary conditions Mr. Castle was being held in with all of these open wounds. We've started prophylactic antibiotics. But, barring any complications, we expect your…" he glanced around, "Mr. Castle to make a full recovery.''

Kate just stared at him. Maybe it was her sleep-deprived brain, but she hadn't understood a word of that. It sounded bad, though.

"In _other_ words" said Lanie, turning to face the group, "Castle's chest and lungs were really screwed up, so they put him on a breathing machine to give him time to heal. He got stabbed in the back of the shoulder, which I'm guessing isn't a big deal since Dr. Karev here didn't say much about it." Lanie glanced at Karev, who nodded. "His arms were broken, but they're squared away. Bottom line is, he'll be unconscious for a couple days and he'll have a long recovery, but he should be fine.''

Karev smiled, openly admiring Lanie. "Exactly. If you'd like, I can take a couple of you back to see him?"

Ryan and Lanie urged Alexis and Martha forward, and they followed the doctor down the hall on shaky legs.

Kate collapsed into her seat once again. She didn't feel much like celebrating. Lanie had given the crowd a brief, watered-down synposis of Castle's condition, but Kate was sure it was worse than the ME made it sound. His lungs were damaged? Bleeding into his chest? "Repeated trauma?"

Lanie embraced Esposito while Ryan pulled out his cell to call Jenny, eager to update his fiance on their friend's status. The rest of the crowd began to thin, the officers willing to depart now that they were confident their resident writer was going to pull through. Only Kate, the boys, Lanie and Sorenson remained, though the latter looked a bit uncomfortable.

"Agent Sorenson?" said an unfamiliar female voice from the doorway. Kate looked up as Sorenson made his way over to the green-clad surgeon. "I'm Dr. Bailey, I operated on your suspect."

Will shook her hand. "What can you tell me?"

"He pulled through," said Bailey, "no surprises there. We moved him up to the secure ward with your guards, and we'll need to keep him there for a day or so. But he's gonna be fine."

"Thanks, doctor. You'll need to advise your staff to use extreme caution with Mr. Wharton" Sorenson warned. "He'll be restrained and guarded at all times."

Dr. Bailey nodded. "You got it."

Was it wrong of Kate that she felt wholeheartedly disappointed at the news? Wharton was alive, and he was just fine. He'd be in the hospital for a couple of days, while Castle was sedated, on a ventilator, and wouldn't even be _awake_ for a couple of days. How was that fair?

"I think I'll send a couple more guards up to babysit Mr. Wharton" said Will, taking a seat next to Kate. "Just to make sure." Kate nodded, staring at her hands. "I'm glad he's okay. Castle, I mean."

"He's not _okay_, though" Kate replied weakly.

"No" Will whispered, "but he will be."

They sat in silence for a few moments, Kate staring absently at her coffee cup while Will shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "I've been meaning to tell you, I like the hair."

Kate glanced at her ex, smiling weakly. "Thanks. And…thanks for your help. I know this can't have been easy for you."

Will shrugged. "Want me to drive you home? You should get some rest."

"Yeah, come on, Beckett" said Esposito, who was standing between Lanie and Ryan, "we're all heading out for a while. Ms R and Alexis are gonna be with him."

"And you need a bath, honey" Lanie added.

"_Thanks_, Lanie." Kate rolled her eyes at the ME, who just smiled.

"Seriously, girl" Lanie continued, "you've been at this for days. Go home, get some sleep. Castle'll still be here tomorrow."

Kate rose, reluctantly, and followed.

* * *

><p>She didn't go home and rest, though. Stripping off her borrowed scrubs and turning the shower to scalding hot, she climbed in and collapsed beneath the pounding stream of water, sobs wracking her body.<p>

Castle was alive, but the sounds of his painful gasping, his screams, his struggling for breath were seared into Kate's memory. The sight of his normally strong, confident form lying beaten and broken on the floor in the dark basement was burned onto her retinas, haunting Kate every time she closed her eyes.

When both Kate's tears and the hot water had been exhausted, she dragged her aching body from the shower and dressed in sweats and a t-shirt. She just didn't possess the energy to put more effort into her appearance. Collapsing on her couch, she checked her voicemail for the first time in almost two days. There were a few messages from Captain Gates, who was clearly unhappy. Nothing new about that. Four or five were from Lanie, all of which basically consisted of "just checking on you, girl, call me back" spoken with varying levels of irritation. One was from her dad, who had seen the report on the news and was deeply concerned. The rest were from Josh.

Oh yeah, Josh. Her _boyfriend_. Damn it.

The first was reasonably benign. "I know you've got a lot going on, Kate, but please call me back. I'm sorry about last night, I didn't know that…anyway, call me. Hope everything's okay."

The second was a bit more adversarial. "Kate, call me back. I know you're busy, but you could take thirty seconds to return a call. Please. Call me."

By the fifth, Josh was irate. "You're constantly complaining that I'm not there for you, Kate, but here I am trying to be good about this and you can't even answer your damn phone? First you cancel our date, then you hang up on me, and now you won't call me back? We _seriously_ need to talk."

Kate slammed her phone shut with a growl. _Why_ was she still with him? She didn't want to be, she hadn't wanted to be for a while now. She just hadn't really had a reason to break up with him. And, if she was honest with herself, she had been a little afraid of what might happen between her and Castle with no six-foot-eight buffer between them. And now? She didn't want to deal with Josh at all. She should have ended things long, long ago.

But there was one man she could deal with. "Hey Dad" she said softly when the familiar voice answered with his customary "Jim Beckett speaking."

"Katie!" said Jim, relief evident in his voice. "Are you okay? I heard about Rick on the news, and-"

"Yeah, Dad. I'm sorry I didn't call before now."

"No. Come on, Katie, I know you've had your hands full." One of the many things Kate loved about her dad was that he was always understanding. He never pushed. "What's going on? His publicist was just on saying that he'd been found, but that was it."

"Yeah, we found him around…" Kate looked at her watch and was shocked to learn that it was only just past nine. "Four, I guess? He made it through surgery, but…he's so weak, Dad. They've got him on a ventilator because of all of the damage to his lungs, both of his arms are broken, he was stabbed in the back…"

"Oh, Katie…I'm so sorry" Jim said softly. Kate knew that her dad really liked Rick, though she wasn't exactly sure why. They had only met at the hospital when she was shot, right? "What about the guy who kidnapped him? His picture was all over the news. Did you catch him?"

"Yeah, we did. Well, Will did. The boys and I were picking up Castle."

"Will?" Jim asked, bewildered. "Will Sorenson? As in, your ex?"

"Um, yeah."

"Huh. That's interesting."

"Dad…" Kate groaned.

"No, no I'm just surprised, that's all." Jim paused, the way he did when he was debating whether or not to say something. "That has to put you in a bit of a strange position" he finally said. "I mean, between Will and Josh and Rick…"

"It hasn't really come up, to be honest" Kate told her father. "I've just been so absorbed with finding Castle…"

"I'm sure you have been."

"Josh isn't happy with me, though."

"I'm sorry, Katie. But it's gonna be okay. I promise."

"Yeah, Dad. I know."

They sat in silence for a moment before Jim spoke again. "Look, Katie, you know I don't like to tell you how to live your life, but can I give you some advice?"

Kate was confused. It was true, her father didn't often give advice, but even when he did he never asked permission first. "Sure, Dad."

"Rick really cares about you, Kate, and I think you know that. I know you're scared. I know that after what happened to your mom…" Jim's voice broke slightly, and he cleared his throat before continuing. "I know you're reluctant to really let people in. But the last thing you want to do is miss the chance to have something real. Just…follow your heart, Katie."

If Kate had thought she had drained her well of tears dry, she was wrong. At her father's words, two of the little bastards leaked from her swollen tear ducts and drained down her face. "Follow your heart, Katie" had been another of her mom's favorite lines, cliche as it was.

"Thank you, Dad."

"Sure, Katie."

* * *

><p>Though she was more exhausted than ever before, Kate couldn't even begin to consider going to sleep. Somehow, without really realizing how she got there, Kate ended up stepping out of the elevator at NYU Medical Center into a sterile, silent, nearly abandoned hallway. She strode around the corner and past the nurse's station, whose lone occupant was slumped over onto a stack of paperwork, emitting the occasional light snore. At the end of the hall were three guards, one on either side of the doorway and the other reading a magazine in a chair by the opposite wall.<p>

Beckett flashed her badge, received a wordless nod, then brushed past the guards and into the room. There was a chair in the back corner, which Kate slid to the side of the bed before taking a seat.

Wharton was fast asleep with both wrists secured to the bed rails. Aside from the IV in his right arm and the gauze peeking out from under the collar of his hospital gown, he looked perfectly healthy. Well, perhaps his nose was slightly swollen and a bit more crooked than it had been in his DMV picture. The realization gave Kate a perverse sort of satisfaction as she recalled Wharton's comment: "he gave me a bloody nose, do you believe that?"

Wharton's face was relaxed in sleep. He appeared perfectly innocuous, in fact, and maybe even a little bit attractive. And he looked so…peaceful. He was sleeping soundly, completely unaffected by the fact that the man he had almost killed was just two floors below, or by the fact that he _had _killed someone. How could he lay here, perfectly comfortable and in nearly perfect health, while Castle fought for his life in that same hospital?

As if sensing her presence, Wharton's eyes fluttered open. He stretched slightly, yawned, and actually _smiled _at Beckett, sitting up a bit straighter. Kate gripped the edges of her seat to avoid punching the son of a bitch in the face, but otherwise maintained a relaxed posture.

"Detective Beckett" said Wharton fondly. "So nice of you to visit. Though I was under the impression that visiting hours were over."

Kate flashed her badge. "They made an exception."

"Ah" said Wharton, smiling. He gazed at Kate with a mix of admiration and curiosity. Though Wharton's eyes raking over her body made Kate's skin crawl, she stared back without flinching. "You know, you're much better looking in person than you were in that magazine article. Absolutely gorgeous."

"Hmmm" was Kate's only comment.

"So, Detective" said Wharton, amused, "what brings you by this evening?"

"You think you're invincible, don't you?" Kate asked, her tone icy even to her own ears. "You think you're smart enough, charming enough, that you can get away with anything. You think you can hurt people, you think you can destroy people's lives and it'll never come back to haunt you. But I'm here to tell you" Kate stood, stepping closer to Wharton and unblinkingly holding his gaze, "it's coming back to haunt you now. You wanted to mess with a famous writer? You should've picked a different one, Wharton. Because I'm gonna make sure you never set foot outside of a prison again. You fucked with the wrong family when you decided to fuck with mine."

Wharton's jaw clenched, his eyes ice cold and menacing, but he remained silent. Kate held his gaze for several more seconds, then turned and strode silently from the room.

* * *

><p>Two floors below, Kate strode cautiously into the ICU wing. It was well past the end of visiting hours, and Kate knew that she'd have to sneak past the nurses in order to see Castle. The hall was empty when she stepped through the doors, and she had a clear shot to Castle's room at the opposite end of the long hallway. Moving swiftly and silently, Kate made her way down the corridor. She was only doors from Castle when a nurse stepped out of the room directly in front of her. They stood face to face, silent, no more than two feet between them.<p>

The nurse, a stern looking middle-aged woman, appraised Kate carefully. She opened her mouth, closed it again, then turned and strode casually toward the nurse's station as if she hadn't seen a thing. Kate stopped in front of Castle's door, glancing back toward the nurse. The older woman met Kate's eyes, winked, then turned and went back to her paperwork. Kate smiled and stepped into Castle's room.

As soon as she did, the smile evaporated.

Martha was slouched in an uncomfortable-looking chair by Rick's bedside, her head drooping down on to her chest, while Alexis was curled into a ball on the tiny excuse for a sofa. A single vacant chair sat along the opposite side of the bed as if waiting for Kate to be brave enough to use it. The rest of the room, it seemed, was occupied with medical equipment. The IV pole at the head of the bed held a bag of blood and a bag clear saline, while third, now-empty bag of some drug Kate would never have been able to pronounce hung mournfully alongside them. A heart and blood pressure monitor sat next to Martha, covered in numbers Kate was too exhausted to interpret. The ventilator, pushed against the wall, was emitting regular, rhythmic beeps and clicks, keeping time with the rise and fall of Rick's chest. Or perhaps it was the other way around.

But none of these things caused Kate to stop dead in her tracks, or caused her to feel that every bit of air had been knocked from her lungs. _Oh fuck, Rick._

The man in the bed looked nothing like the Rick Castle Kate had come to know and…yes, love. _You might as well admit it, Kate_. Castle was a big guy, but he looked so frail, somehow, so small and pale and weak. His face was slack, dark bruises covering every visible inch of skin. Much of his countenance was hidden. A bandage covered the cut Kate knew was across his forehead. Another piece of gauze had been placed near his ear, and several strips of tape held the ventilator tube in place. Wires and tubes were sticking out everywhere: an IV in his left arm, a blood pressure cuff on his right, EKG lines snaking out from under his hospital gown, a catheter tube mostly hidden by the sheet. Casts covered both of his arms, from his knuckles to just above his elbows, and even in the dark the bruising along his biceps was more than evident.

Kate stepped forward, slowly and cautiously, until she reached his bedside. It was worse up close. It looked as if Rick's entire body had been reduced to a single large, angry, swollen bruise. And she couldn't even see the worst of it. The stab wound, the battered ribs, the surgical scars, these injuries were all hidden beneath the hospital gown and sheet.

Kate needed to touch him, some part of him, but she was afraid of causing him pain. Though she knew, logically, that the drugs would keep him from feeling anything, she didn't want to chance it. What if he _could_ feel it? What if he was in agony at that very moment, and her touch only made it worse?

Kate's eyes raked over Castle's body, taking in the damage and, more importantly, the limited pieces of evidence that he was alive. Eventually her gaze fell on his hands. His strong, thick fingers, the slightly bruised knuckles of his right hand, the same knuckles that had beaten Hal Lockwood's face to a bloody pulp so many months before. His hands seemed to be the only part of his body that was reasonably unscathed. It was something, Kate supposed. He made a living with his hands. His hands had created twenty nine bestsellers. At least Wharton hadn't damaged them too badly.

Kate couldn't help it, the force pulling her hand to his was positively magnetic. Ever so gently she threaded her fingers through Rick's, avoiding the cast as best she could. She didn't want to feel plaster. She wanted to feel only the warmth emanating from his palm, the slightly rough skin on the pads of his fingers, the slow, steady, regular thrum of pulse at the base of his thumb.

Heaving a deep sigh of relief, Kate sank into the vacant chair and rested her chin on the too-firm mattress, gazing up at Rick's battered face. She wanted him to open his eyes and smirk at her in that way she both hated and adored, but she knew he wouldn't. Not until they took all of these damn drugs out of his system. And judging by the way he looked…he was probably better off asleep. At least this way he wasn't in pain. Kate knew that when he woke up he'd be in agony again. After all he had been through, Rick deserved a long, painless sleep.

He really did look awful. Someday, hopefully some day soon, she and the boys would tease him about it. They would poke fun at how the normally polished author had looked like something out of a bad horror film. But at that moment none of this was funny. At that moment, all that mattered was that Rick was alive, safe, and right by her side where he belonged.

With that knowledge, Kate was finally able to close her eyes and sleep.

* * *

><p><em>Thanks for reading! There's still a lot more of this story to come. Rick has to wake up, relationship stuff, Wharton stuff, and this little matter named JOSH has to be taken care of... <em>

_Please review!_


	10. The Waiting Room

_Thanks so much for all of your fabulous feedback! _

_A quick note about my "rant" from last chapter: a few of you seemed to "misapprehend" my meaning. I didn't mean that I dislike the new season. It has many good points and many funny moments! I just meant that the overall feel of the show is different. It feels darker. The lighting is different, they're doing more "singles" and closeup shots, and Castle (the man, as in Richard Castle) isn't his usual happy, goofy self. This change makes sense, as some of you pointed out, in light of everything that's been going on between Castle and Beckett and with Roy's death. I REALLY hope it's a deliberate change and not some dissatisfaction or issue on Nathan Fillion's part. I'm not inclined to believe that, since he's always embodied his characters to such and extraordinary degree...hope I'm right. Anyway, it sounds like some potentially wonderful episodes are coming up and I'm looking forward to these and the return of the lighter feel we're used to. _

_That is all. Love y'all bunches..._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 10: The Waiting Room<strong>

The forty eight hours after Castle's surgery passed in a blur. Martha, Kate and Alexis remained by his side constantly, leaving only for the occasional shower or food break. Lanie and the boys came by as often as they could, swinging in to ask about Castle's condition and lighten the mood as only they were able. Several friends from the 12th dropped in as well, usually bringing flowers, eccentric Castle-worthy gifts, or food for the three women. Even Jim Beckett made an appearance, though he came to check on his daughter as much as Castle.

Josh had called several more times, but Kate had yet to respond. She knew she had to end things, but didn't want to do it over the phone. And she wasn't planning on leaving Castle's side until he was at least awake and talking.

"Billy the Kid" Wharton was gone, having been escorted to solitary confinement in federal prison the day before. There he would await trial on a list of charges: murder, kidnapping, assault, communicating threats, and a couple of others Kate couldn't really recall at that moment. With Wharton safely behind bars and far, far away from Castle, Kate felt she could breathe at least a bit more freely.

She was exhausted. Though she was sleeping some, the constant beeps, whirrs and clicks of the machines and the barrage of intrusions from nurses ensured that none of the room's occupants -except for Castle- got more than a few consecutive hours of rest. Not to mention the fact that her limited sleep took place in that uncomfortable chair, slumped forward with her head on the mattress by Castle's side and her hand in his. Her neck ached, her back was sore, and her ankle throbbed from the injury for which she still hadn't sought treatment. It was silly and insignificant, Kate felt, in comparison to what Rick was up against.

Martha and Alexis were faring no better. The teen seemed to have aged drastically in the past week, her mood brightening only during the brief visits from her boyfriend. Martha, who was minus her usual coat of makeup and lively wardrobe, looked her age for the first time in Kate's memory. It was hard to believe it had been only five days since Kate had received that fateful call from Alexis. It seemed a lifetime ago.

They passed the time watching soap operas on the tiny TV that was mounted to the wall over the bathroom door. _Temptation Lane_ was a favorite, of course, and Martha shared countless stories of her adventurous three weeks on the set. Kate couldn't help but see the comparison between the soap and her life at the moment. Here she sat, waiting by the bedside of the man she loved, who was in a coma after being kidnapped, and avoiding calls from her boyfriend, whom she did not love. What a shit show.

Not to mention the fact that Castle's doctor -whose arrival the women were impatiently awaiting- looked exactly like the kind of doctor you'd expect to see on a soap opera: tall, tan, blonde, busty and beautiful. She seemed more than competent, though, and was perfectly kind, so Kate couldn't find a legitimate reason to dislike her. It wasn't as if Castle was able to make goo-goo eyes at her at the moment, anyway.

As if on cue, Dr. Christine Schmidt knocked twice on the door and strode confidently into the room, a perfect smile plastered on her flawless face. Martha and Alexis sat up straighter as Kate abandoned her own chair in favor of the foot of Castle's bed. All three women fidgeted in anticipation.

"Good afternoon, ladies" said Dr. Schmidt, closing the door and taking the seat Kate had just vacated. She appraised them all in turn, her expression not judgmental but caring. "How're you guys holding up?"

"We're okay" said Alexis, shifting nervously.

Martha took the words from Kate's mouth. "We're concerned about Richard, mainly.''

"I'm sure you are." Dr. Schmidt smiled kindly. "I know it probably doesn't seem this way to you, but Mr. Castle _is_ improving. The swelling is going down, his cuts are healing nicely, as is the wound in his shoulder."

Kate had noticed that Dr. Schmidt avoided the words "stab" and "knife" and "beating," though she couldn't understand why. Perhaps the doctor was afraid that the terms would traumatize the family further? If that was the case, she had no idea who she was dealing with: one homicide detective and two women who lived with Richard Castle, Master of the Macabre. Little phrases like "stab wound" were not likely to bother them.

There was some truth to the doctor's words, though. Rick's face wasn't nearly as puffy as it had been when Kate first saw him, and his bruises were beginning to fade slightly. They had all been a deep, gruesome blackish purple when Kate first entered the room but some were now more of a greenish blue color.

Dr. Schmidt had paused to allow the women the opportunity to appraise Castle's appearance for themselves. When she had their attention once again, she continued. "As I said, he is improving. Actually, he's healing faster than I expected him to, given the level of trauma." The doctor sounded surprised, but pleased. "It certainly helped that Mr. Castle was in excellent health before all of this. And he's been lucky: no major infection, so far.

"That being said, I'm afraid Mr. Castle won't be back to normal for quite some time. His shoulder will require extensive physical therapy in order to regain full range of motion. His right arm should heal within the next month, but the left…" The doctor shook her beautiful head almost mournfully. "I'll be surprised if it doesn't require additional surgery. And then there's the matter of his chest wounds. Even one bruised or broken rib is extremely painful, and Mr. Castle has eight. The laceration on his diaphragm is healing nicely, as are his liver and kidney, but there's still a significant amount of edema -swelling- in his lungs."

"W-what does that mean?" Alexis asked, her voice shaking.

"It means that when we start weaning your dad off of the medications and remove him from the ventilator, he's going to be in a lot of pain" said Dr. Schmidt. Her words were blunt but her tone kind. ''Now, we will be able give him narcotics to reduce that pain to some extent, but we can't give enough to get rid of it."

"Why is that?" Martha inquired.

"Narcotics, morphine especially, tend to suppress your breathing" the doctor explained. "Since your son's lung function is well below optimal, we don't want to do that." Martha nodded in understanding. "So we're at a bit of a crossroads, here" said Dr. Schmidt. "You essentially have two choices: go ahead and start taking Mr. Castle off of the ventilator, or wait a while longer. There are pros and cons to both."

"Such as?" Kate asked, though it probably wasn't her place.

The doctor appeared unphased. "Well, if we take him off the vent, as I said, he'll be in a great deal of pain. There's also the chance that he may not be ready to breathe effectively on his own. However, leaving him on the vent carries a number of risks: pneumonia, muscle atrophy, a list of drug side effects as long as my arm…Let's just say, the longer we leave him on the vent, the weaker he'll be when he comes off and the longer it's likely to take him to fully recover."

Martha, Kate and Alexis exchanged nervous, apprehensive looks. The last thing they wanted was to see him in pain, but they wanted to do what was best in the long term. And, selfishly, they _needed_ to see him awake and talking. This utterly still and silent version of Castle was unnerving.

"What do you recommend, Doctor?" Martha asked.

"I tend to lean toward going ahead and taking him off" said Dr. Schmidt. "In addition to the benefits I just mentioned, we'll be able to more fully assess his condition when he's awake. Which is beneficial for everyone."

Decision made. Now, all they could do was wait.

* * *

><p>Castle finally started waking up just before nine the next morning. Heartened by the knowledge that he would be back among the living soon, Kate and Alexis were laughing at one of Martha's wilder tales of Broadway's behind-the-scenes drama. Kate was crammed into the small vacant space at the foot of the bed, sitting indian-style, while Martha and Alexis sat squished together on the minuscule couch.<p>

That's when Castle's leg moved.

"Castle?" Kate choked out. She climbed gracelessly from the bed and moved to stand next to his head as Martha and Alexis did the same on the opposite side of the bed.

For several moments no part of the writer's body moved but his chest, rising and falling rhythmically without assistance, and Kate began to think that she had imagined the movement. Or perhaps it had been a fluke? Not ready to give up yet, Kate grasped his fingers and gave a gentle squeeze.

He squeezed back.

Then his eyes opened.

The three women around the bed breathed a collective sigh of relief as Castle glanced at each of them in turn, his blue eyes still clouded slightly from the residual drugs. The corners of his mouth turned slightly upward. Then he took a breath and groaned.

''Oh, _fuck_" Castle rasped, his voice like sandpaper. "Did I get hit by a train?"

The women laughed. What else could they do? Kate pressed the nurse's call button while Martha poured her son a cup of water from the pitcher on the bedside table.

"Thanks" he croaked, taking a sip. "Alexis, you okay?"

"Am_ I_ okay?" His daughter retorted "Dad, _seriously_? You were kidnapped, beaten, stabbed, had surgery, got put in a coma…and you're asking if I'm okay?"

"Well…yeah.'' Castle's befuddled, sheepish look was nothing short of adorable.

Alexis laughed, a sound of pure relief. "Yeah, Dad, I'm fine. Now that you're awake, I mean."

"Sorry, Pumpkin." Alexis merely squeezed her father's fingers. "Mother, you alright? Didn't burn down the loft or anything?"

"Of course, darling" said Martha, easily adopting their usual banter. She did lean over, though, and kiss his cheek, her eyes slightly misty. "How are you feeling, Richard?"

Castle let out a breathy laugh, then winced. "Honestly? Awful.'' Castle's speech was much more sluggish than normal, his vocabulary markedly less eloquent, and his words ever-so-slightly slurred. But Kate thought it was the most beautiful sound ever to grace her ears.

Martha glanced at the doorway. "Where on earth is that nurse? I'm sure she'll give you some medication for the pain. And Dr. Schmidt will want to check in, I'm sure." The actress grasped her granddaughter's hand and tugged her toward the door. "Come on, Alexis, let's see if we can find someone."

Alexis glanced between her grandmother and father, eyes wide with protest. "But-"

"Come along, darling" Martha interrupted, dragging Alexis to the door.

Kate smiled, and turned to find Castle doing the same. "Subtlety is not my mother's strong suit." His voice was raspy and quiet, almost a whisper, but the familiar teasing intonation was gradually returning. He squeezed Kate's fingers, which she hadn't realized were still linked with the writer's. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you look terrible."

Kate couldn't even find the energy for a patented Beckett glare, so she merely smiled in answer. "Yeah, well, you're not looking your best either Mr. Cosmo cover boy. And _somebody_ had to track you down and keep your mom and daughter company. You haven't been very entertaining recently."

She meant for her comments to be light and teasing, but Castle's brow only furrowed more deeply. "You've been here the whole time?"

''I went home to shower and change a couple of times, but…" She shrugged. "Mostly, yeah."

Castle got one of _those looks_ on his face, the one he always got when there was something he wanted to say but was holding back, the one that was equal parts fearful and adoring. He tore his eyes away for a moment, cleared his throat, winced, and then spoke again. "How long was I out?"

"A little over two days."

"And Bill?" Castle looked hesitant, and more fearful than Kate had ever seen him. She squeezed his fingers in reassurance.

"William Wharton, AKA Bill, is spending some quality time in solitary at the federal prison upstate. Sorenson and some guys from the 12th caught up with him right about the time the boys and I found you."

"Good…that's-" It obviously took a moment for Castle's drug-addled brain to catch up. "Sorenson? Mr. FBI Sorenson?"

"That's the one. He volunteered to help us find you."

"Oh."

They were both silent for a moment. Castle was clearly debating something, he kept opening his mouth to speak and then snapping it closed again. Kate was having an internal argument of her own, as it happened.

"Rick, I-"

The door swung open, interrupting. Dr. Schmidt and Reese, one of Castle's nurses, strode in. The Castle women followed closely behind. It figured, Kate thought, that the words she had been trying to work up the nerve to say would be interrupted by the arrival of a leggy blonde.

But Castle didn't even seem to notice the beautiful Dr. Schmidt or the attractive brunette nurse. He answered their questions, of course, and assisted with the examination as best he could in his condition, but the writer's eyes never strayed from Kate.

* * *

><p>Castle was in agony. He had stayed awake for all of an hour that morning, slept for another three, and had since managed to remain alert for the better part of the afternoon. He was doing an admirable job of hiding his distress, but Kate knew him too well. She could see it in his eyes, in the way he would stiffen with the most minuscule movement, in his slow, measured, cautious breathing. There was a sort of desperation starting to build beneath Rick's stoic facade.<p>

"Martha, Alexis, why don't you go back to the loft for a while?" Kate suggested. "You should get some sleep. In a real bed."

"Aren't you tired, Kate? You can go, if you want." Alexis offered.

Kate shook her head, holding up her half-empty coffee cup. "I'm good for a while. I'll just go when you come back."

"Is it okay, Dad?" Alexis inquired, apprehensive. Kate knew Alexis didn't want to leave her father, and Kate didn't blame the girl, but she had a sneaking suspicion that Castle's act was primarily for his daughter's benefit. "You'll be okay if we go for a little while?"

"Sure, sweetie" said Castle, smiling. It didn't cut through the pain in his eyes, though. "I'll be fine. You girls get some rest."

"Alright, darling" said Martha, kissing her son and then Kate on the cheek. "Call if you need anything at all, though? Either of you?"

"Thanks, Martha" said Kate.

Alexis kissed her father's cheek and followed her grandmother through the door. As soon as the women were out of sight, Castle slumped back onto his pillows and exhaled shakily, closing his eyes.

"What hurts, Rick?" Kate asked.

Castle scoffed. "What doesn't?"

Kate moved from her chair to the mattress, perching by Rick's hip with her legs dangling toward the floor. "Okay, what doesn't hurt?"

Castle's eyes cracked open. "Is this gonna be one of those Indiana Jones moments?"

"If you didn't look so pitiful right about now I'd smack you" Kate replied with a teasing glare. "You should take some more morphine"

"Ugh" Castle grunted, glancing at the morphine pump which was occupying the ventilator's former position. He could push a button every half hour to get a shot of the drug directly into his IV line, but so far he had resisted using it. "I hate that crap. I never was a fan of being high" he admitted, meeting Kate's eyes again.

"Are you a fan of being in excruciating pain?" Kate shot back. "Because I'm not a fan of seeing you in it." She held out the button, eyebrows raised.

Castle sighed. "Fine, push the damn thing."

She did so, and took a sip of her coffee. "Can I have some of that?"

"Castle-"

"Come on, Beckett, it's just coffee." Rick whined. Kate appraised him. "I was kidnapped. And in a coma. Please?"

"Don't think that excuse is gonna work on me forever" said Kate, grabbing a straw and holding the cup to his lips, since Rick couldn't bend his elbows. He took an appreciative sip, his eyes never leaving Kate's.

"Uh, am I interrupting something?" said a familiar voice from the doorway.

"Sorenson" said Castle, surprised, just as Kate said

"Will" in the same tone. She took stock of her position: sitting on the edge of Castle's bed, leaning over his body, with his cast-covered hand nearly touching her thigh. She quickly sat up straighter.

"I heard you were awake," said Will, striding into the room, "thought I'd come by and see how you were doing."

Castle shrugged. "I've been better."

"You've looked better" said Will, smiling.

Castle laughed, then winced. "So I've been told." He swallowed hard. "Listen, thanks. I hear you took Wharton down, and helped find me."

Will shrugged. "Just doing my job."

"Still" said Rick in his most sincere tone, "thanks." Kate squeezed his pinkie with her own, then gave in and laced their fingers together.

Sorenson nodded. "You're welcome."

At that moment a third male strode into the room: a very tall, very dark, very handsome surgeon Kate had been avoiding for the better part of the week. And he looked none too happy.

"Kate?" Josh snapped.

"Josh!" Kate exclaimed.

"Oh, this is _just_ fantastic" Castle groaned.

"Who are you?" Josh demanded, turning his attention to Will.

"Will Sorenson, FBI. Who are you?"

"Dr. Josh Davidson, Kate's boyfriend." Josh turned on Kate, jerking a thumb in Will's direction. "Isn't he your ex?"

"Yes" Will answered for her. "You have a boyfriend?" he asked Kate.

"You didn't even tell him about me?" Josh demanded, before turning on Rick. "And what the hell do you think you're doing, Castle? Holding her _hand_?"

Kate looked down at her hand. Yep, still joined with Rick's. She gave him a minuscule squeeze and then released her hold. "I-"

"Kate, what the _hell_ is going on, here?" Josh practically shouted.

"Hey!" Will stepped in. "Calm down, man. Kate's been through a lot in the past few days, alright? And so has Castle, obviously. Take it easy."

"Look, back off, okay?" Josh snapped, "This has nothing to do with you."

"Not that I'm not enjoying this incredibly awkward situation" Castle rasped tiredly, "but can we maybe _not _do this now?"

"I'm not the one holding hands with someone else's girlfriend, Castle" Josh shot back.

Rick lifted his head off of the pillow as best he could. "I don't remember inviting you in here…in fact I'm pretty sure I didn't."

"Look, Castle, I'm sorry you're hurt, okay, but-"

Rick scoffed. "No you're not. You don't even like me."

Josh scowled. "That doesn't mean I wanted you to get hurt. But-"

"Last time I saw you, you shoved me into a wall!"

"He what now?" Will asked, bewildered.

"That doesn't give you the right to-"

"HEY!" Kate shouted, and silence fell in the room instantly. Two sets of blue and one set of brown eyes were fixed on her as she stood, squaring her shoulders. "Josh, you were right. You and I need to talk. Will, would you mind staying with Rick for a few minutes?''

"I don't need a babysitter" Castle muttered. Kate shot him a look. "Fine" he said, though he looked none too happy about it.

"Yeah, I'll stay" said Will, still obviously confused and a bit uncomfortable.

"Thank you. Come on, Josh" Kate snapped, and strode from the room without waiting to see if he was following.

* * *

><p><em>I hope that was okay... Let me know!<em>


	11. Confrontation

_So very truly sorry, guys. I know it's been forever. School has taken over my life. It may be another week before I get the next chapter up...I hate to keep y'all waiting, but school has to come first. :( Thanks for your patience, and your reviews and support! _

_On a happier note, the last 2 weeks of Castle have been wonderful! YAY! Especially Monday's episode: the sexual tension was back and Castle wasn't getting kicked around like an abused puppy. Always a plus. _

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 11: Confrontation<strong>

Kate was waiting by the elevator by the time Josh caught up, but she said nothing as they rode to the ground floor and made their way through the large, open lobby and out onto the busy sidewalk.

It was still hot, but the humidity had waned to slightly less stifling levels. It was the first time Kate had payed the slightest bit of attention to the weather since the previous Saturday. She relished the heat enveloping her body, the warmth of the sun's powerful rays beating down on her skin, the blinding light reflecting off of surrounding cars and buildings.

Kate leaned against the stone wall of the building and closed her eyes as Josh stood next to her, stiff and silent. She took a deep breath, but didn't open her eyes before speaking. "You do know he was in a medically-induced coma for two days, right? Do you really think that was the best way to handle the situation?"

"How was I supposed to know what was going on?" Josh shot back. "I haven't talked to you in days, Kate. And then I walk in and you're all over him-"

"That's a bit of an exaggeration, Josh" Kate defended, her eyes snapping open to shoot daggers at the surgeon. She took a deep breath, calming herself, wanting to maintain control of the situation. "I'm sorry I haven't called." She said a bit stiffly.

Josh took a moment to curtail his own temper. "I know you were worried. I get it. I mean, obviously he's…not in great shape."

"Which is exactly why he didn't need you barging in and freaking out" Kate replied, her irritation making an abrupt reappearance.

"I know, Kate. It's just…I mean, I've called half a dozen times in the past couple of days with no response, and then I walk in and see you practically sitting on his lap, holding his hand-"

"It wasn't like that" Kate insisted, almost as if by reflex. She was so used to denying that there was anything going on with Castle, so used to denying that he was anything more than her friend, that words like these had become a knee-jerk response. Especially with Josh. She took a deep breath, though, and reconsidered. "No, you know what? It was exactly like that."

Josh just stared at her through wide brown eyes, pain and anger intermingling in their dark depths. "You know, I've always told myself I was crazy for wondering about you two, but...How long?"

"How long what?"

"How long have you been cheating?"

"I'm not! My God, Josh. I _haven't _cheated."

"So you've never slept with him."

"No!"

"Never kissed him?"

Kate closed her eyes, jaw clenched, and took a cleansing breath. This was _not_ the direction this conversation was supposed to take. "Once." She responded. There was no need to tell him that the kiss was just a diversion so that they could save Ryan and Esposito, since Kate wasn't even sure she believed that herself. That particular detail was irrelevant. The kiss hadn't been meaningless, so the circumstances behind it didn't matter.

"See, I consider that cheating" said Josh, his tone icy.

"Look, Josh, the fact of the matter is that I was never really with you. Not completely." Josh's responding glare was both shocked and furious, his hands clenched in white-knuckled fists. "It's not that I don't like you, I do. But I don't like you as much as I should. Not as much as you deserve."

"Because you think you're in love with the _writer_" Josh snapped, putting more venom on the last word than Kate had thought the good doctor capable. She knew there was no shortage of animosity between the two men; Castle had been a topic of dissent between she and Josh more than once before, and Rick did only a mediocre job of hiding his jealousy. But Kate hadn't been aware of the level of hatred the surgeon evidently felt toward Castle.

"There's no 'think' about it, Josh."

"He'll hurt you."

"Maybe" Kate admitted, "but that's between me and Castle."

"He's not good enough for you, Kate" Josh pressed, hurt outweighing anger in his eyes now.

Kate shook her head, but smiled in spite of herself. "You don't know him."

"Maybe you're the one I don't know."

"Maybe you're right."

They stood in silence for a while, watching the traffic crawl by through the asphalt-scented haze created by the sweltering heat. "I couldn't have done anything differently, could I?" Josh asked after a few moments. "It was never about you and me. It was always about you and him.''

There was no way to make this hurt any less, was there? The truth of the matter was that it had started because of Castle just as much as it was ending because of him. When Kate had met Josh, her primary goal had been to distract herself from Castle's sudden and painful departure, from the months she had trudged through in the writer's absence. The fact that Kate had known how painfully jealous Castle would be of the tall, handsome surgeon, if and when he returned, had been a definite bonus. It was only after spending a significant amount of time with Josh that she had realized what a great guy he was and had genuinely started to like the man. She just hadn't ever liked Josh the way she did Castle.

"I'm sorry" Kate finally responded.

"Yeah" said Josh, his tone clipped. "Yeah, so am I." He stood, shoving away from the wall at his back. "Take care, Kate." And without so much as a glance backward, Josh turned and walked away.

* * *

><p>"You're limping" Will remarked as Kate approached. He stood in the hallway outside Castle's room, leaning against the wall with his legs crossed. "What happened?"<p>

"Oh, I twisted my ankle during the case" said Kate dismissively. "It's nothing."

"You're limping pretty bad," said Will, "you should have that checked out."

"It's nothing, Will."

"Alright, alright" the Agent acquiesced, holding up his hands in innocence. "Castle's asleep, by the way."

"Thanks for staying" Kate replied. "He was in a lot of pain when you got there, and I just didn't really wanna leave him alone. He won't ask for help."

"It's no big deal." Will said with a shrug. "I always liked him, anyway."

Kate's eyebrows disappeared into her hairline as she scoffed. "No you didn't."

Will grinned in response. "Okay, so we're never gonna be best friends. But…I don't know, Castle's...he's an interesting guy. Definitely smart, and" Will glanced over his shoulder in the direction of Castle's room, "surprisingly tough, apparently."

"He is that" Kate agreed, chewing her lip.

"Even on that first case -'course I never would've admitted it, since it seemed like he was in the way of you and I getting back together- but I respected him."

"I think he probably feels the same way about you" said Kate.

"He does." Said Will, grinning. Kate gave him a questioning look. "He told me. Apparently whatever limited filter he has between his brain and his mouth is removed by morphine."

"Oh...no wonder he said he didn't like being high." Kate chuckled.

"So" said Will after a brief pause, "boyfriend, huh?"

Kate's eyes left her ex in favor of the floor. "Not anymore."

"Ah." Will shifted uncomfortably. "Listen, I wanted to let you know that the AUSA is gonna want you and Castle to testify against Wharton. It's a pretty rock-solid case anyway, with the blood evidence and all, but we're really gonna need you to tie him to Gary Hobson's murder."

"The gun he was carrying wasn't a match to the one that killed Hobson?"

Will shook his head. "No, he must've dumped it." Kate must have looked worried, because Will nudged her reassuringly as he continued. "Look, the guy's smart, but he's cocky. He confessed to you, and I'd be willing to bet Castle got him to talk too. We'll get him, don't worry."

"We better" Kate whispered, mostly to herself. "Will?" she asked after a moment "Why did Wharton leave Castle alive down there? Why didn't he kill him?"

"I've been asking myself that question for two days" Will replied. "Wharton's not saying a word, not even to the guards, or to Morgan."

"What about Castle's books? The ones we found in Wharton's apartment?"

"Morgan says they're classic evidence of Antisocial Personality Disorder, and he clearly fixated on Castle's belief in the idea of good versus evil, you know, justice. I guess Wharton wanted to prove him wrong. But Morgan has no idea why Castle's still alive. I guess that's a question we'll have to ask Castle."

* * *

><p>Rick didn't wake before Martha and Alexis returned. Dr. Schmidt insisted that this was perfectly normal, but Kate couldn't help feeling uneasy whenever he lay still that way, whenever his eyes remained closed for any extended period. Kate watched him carefully, focusing as much as possible on the only signs of life: his still-strained breathing and the occasional furrow of his brow, as if he was in pain or having a troubling dream. Perhaps it was a combination of the two.<p>

As Kate waited for him to wake, she tried to imagine what she would say when he did. How was she supposed to start this conversation? "_Hey, Castle, I know you're in excruciating pain right now and you were kidnapped and almost killed, but I love you." _That wouldn't work. "_Glad you're awake, Castle. Listen, I broke up with Josh_." Not ideal. "_Sorry Josh was such a douche earlier. I broke up with him. By the way, I love you._" Better, but still awkward. The confidence she had expressed to Josh was waning, increasingly replaced by doubts and ''what ifs" and thoughts of blonde publishers and deep fried Twinkies.

Martha and Alexis practically forced Kate out of the room when they arrived at around six, insisting that it was "her turn to sleep." Instead of heading back to her apartment, though, Kate somehow wound up knocking on Dr. Lanie Parrish's door.

"Hey, sweetie" the ME greeted. "What's going on? Castle okay?"

"Yeah, Lanie, he's okay. Is Esposito here?"

Lanie shook her head. "Nope. With Kevin. I think they were heading to visit Castle and then heading to visit Castle's bar."

"You're letting your man take advantage of free drinks while the owner's in the hospital?" Kate teased as her friend ushered her into the tidy apartment.

"Girl, you know Castle wouldn't let em pay anyway. And fortunately for you" Lanie said as she took a bottle of vodka from the freezer, "neither to I. So what brings you by? You're limping."

"I just twisted my ankle."

"Did you want me to take a look?"

"Do I look like a corpse to you?"

"Close enough, girl. You look like crap. And I did learn a thing or two about live people in medical school, you know."

Kate sighed. "It's fine, really." She took a seat on Lanie's comfortable couch, letting the soft brown leather envelope her aching body. "Josh tracked me down today. Any idea how he might've found out where I was?" Kate raised her eyebrows at Lanie.

"Honey, please. You know me better than that." Lanie poured the vodka into two tumblers, carrying them to the couch as Kate followed. "He did call, I told him I hadn't seen you lately. He probably found out from the hospital or Gates."

"Yeah, probably" said Kate, draining half of her vodka in one gulp.

"But let's be honest, girl, you did need to talk to him." She shook her head, disapproving.

"I know, I know." Kate raised her hands in defeat.

"So what happened?"

"He barged into Castle's room and started freaking out."

"Why did he freak out?"

Kate gazed at Lanie over the rim of her glass, then drained the rest. "I was kinda sitting on Castle's bed...Holding his hand."

"Oh."

"You haven't even heard the best part yet. Will was there too."

"_Oh_" Lanie's eyes widened comically. "What was Agent Adonis doin' there?"

"He came by to check on Castle."

"Really?"

"Really. Will was great about the whole thing" said Kate, shaking her head in disbelief. "He even stayed in the room with Castle while I went to talk to Josh."

"Aw, honey. He still has a thing for you, doesn't he?" Lanie remarked sympathetically.

Kate nodded. "Yeah, but he's not trying to get back together or anything. In fact, he pretty much gave Castle and I his blessing."

Lanie laughed, and Kate couldn't help but join her. It really was ridiculous. "He was _defending_ Castle. Actually told Josh to back off."

"Oh, girl. I would've loved to be a fly on the wall in that room" said Lanie, topping off her own drink and re-filling Kate's. "So what happened with Dr. Motorcycle Boy?"

"We broke up."

"Bout damn time."

Kate didn't disagree. "I wouldn't exactly call it amicable, but we didn't have a shouting match in the street or anything."

"That's somethin, I guess. So what now?"

"What do you mean, what now?"

The ME shot her a look. "_Castle_."

Kate sighed, draining her second glass of cold, clear liquid and leaning back against the couch cushion. "Not sure."

"What did he say about Josh?"

"Nothing. He doesn't know yet."

"Why the hell not?" Lanie demanded.

"He was asleep!"

"Alright, alright" Lanie relented. For a moment. "But you _are_ gonna tell him."

"I- When the time's right, yeah."

"_Hell_ no." Lanie spat. Kate was taken aback. She was used to Lanie's blunt, spunky nature, but not to this level of anger from her best friend. "It's bad enough that you've strung him along all this time, sending him all these mixed signals so he doesn't know where the hell he stands. It's bad enough that it took him almost getting killed for you to finally admit -to yourself or anybody else- that he's more than just your '_friend_.' You're hurting him, Kate. And it needs to stop."

"I didn't…I mean, I wasn't intentionally-"

"I _know_, honey. I know you weren't" said Lanie, taking Kate's hand. "But you have hurt him." The two women sat in silence for a few moments, Lanie watching Kate carefully as the detective's eyes attempted to bore a hole in the cream-colored carpet. "Tell me something" said Lanie, breaking the silence, "what do you _want_ to happen with Castle?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you wanna date him? Marry him? Sleep with him once and then never talk to him again? Kick him out of the precinct and never talk to him again?"

"No!" Kate insisted.

"To which part?"

"Th-the kicking him out part. He's my best friend-"

"Hey, now." Lanie objected, releasing Kate's hand.

"_One of _my best friends" Kate amended, and Lanie gave a nod, appeased. "I definitely want him in my life, especially after, you know…that summer."

"I do know. Most of Manhattan knows."

"Lanie-"

"I'm just sayin', girl, you were kinda miserable to be around. But you didn't answer my question. And 'keep things like they are and see what happens' is not an option. You're drivin yourselves and everybody else crazy with this whole will they/won't they, 'we're just friends' crap."

Kate paused, shifting uncomfortably. "I mean, I guess…op-option one?"

"Okay, you wanna date Castle" said Lanie. "Why the hell does that scare you so much?"

"Because he...I mean, he's-"

"Rich, fine, smart, funny, incredibly sweet and completely in love with you?"

"Not…what I was going to say, but…"

"It's _true_" Lanie insisted.

"Well…yeah" Kate admitted. "But he's also got two ex wives and a whole string of conquests, he's gets all this media attention-"

"Excuses, excuses" Lanie interrupted. "Bottom line, honey, is that you're scared you're gonna get hurt because he's the only one you care about enough that he really _could_ hurt you."

Kate just stared at her friend, trying to formulate a response. It was true, she realized, and her list of reasons and excuses all boiled down to that one fact. She nodded. "And I'd be losing my -_one_ of my- best friends."

"No you wouldn't" said Lanie, leaning forward to grasp kate's hand once again. "He'd still be your second-best friend, he'd just be something else, too. Girl, if you give that man a chance...he could give you everything you've ever wanted."

"Or we could spontaneously combust."

"You could. I don't think it'll happen, but you could" said Lanie, shrugging. "But if you don't give it a shot you'll never know."

Kate sighed, clamping her eyes shut, and Lanie gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Honey, you two have been through hell together already and you're still a damn good team. Better than ever, actually. And no matter how many times I've watched you try to get over him, it _never works_. Don't talk yourself out of this, just…stop fighting it and do the damn thing!"

"What am I supposed to say, Lanie?"

Lanie sighed, then looked her friend dead in they eye. "Kate Beckett, you're the woman who breaks the bad news to murder victims' families every day. You can handle telling Richard Castle you love him."

* * *

><p><em>Not entirely happy with this chapter, so please review and let me know which parts are crap. Thank you!<em>


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